Beshalach is a tough one not because of moral ambiguity but because the most recognizable Torah tale takes place right here in this week’s portion. Yep this week Moses parts a large body of water and if that is not enough sweetens water to quench thirst, negotiates for daily quail, and survives an impressive endurance test during a battle with the Amalekites.

My Dvar for this week is deliberately short because we all know this portion better than any other and since Circle Pit the Bimah is a reference to a hardcore punk dance move it is appropriate to have a least one brief parsha.

So here we go, Beshalach is about being a leader and focal point for our Jewish communities. Unlike the Shoah we do not have individual accounts of triumph and tragedy we have Moses being the focal point as the leader and with Hashem as provider, we have Miriam as the feminine focal point leading the dance, we have Aaron and Hur being focal points of support. Be Jewish, be yourself, be the focal point.

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Judaism is monotheistic period. This means everything, or lack thereof, emanates from one source, Hashem. Whether it is righteousness, wickedness, or something in between the root, the seed, the source is the same and never wavering. We as human beings are created in Hashem’s image and this does not mean He looks like us externally but that we encapsulate pure dualism just like Him. Every act, belief, and feeling we have is only present because its opposite is not acted upon. Sure we exist but we emanate good and evil based on our will just like our creator.

Passover is the perfect lesson to explain the compulsions of good versus evil we all have seeded inside of us. In fact this week’s portion is the blossomed fruit matured from the seed sprouting out of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. The Hebrews marking their door posts is a conscious choice to do good when faced with doing evil. This choice to mark themselves apart saves their sons and leads directly towards breaking the yoke of bondage. The Egyptians refusal to do the right thing results in the evil inclination running rampant in their hearts and minds leading to death, sorrow, anger, and the lust for vengeance. Such a heavy portion.

Bo is the perfect moral lesson to carry as a reminder while navigating all of life’s temptations. Sometimes we are the ancient Hebrew yearning to cast off the burden of evil inclinations and sometimes we are the ancient Egyptian willfully afflicting those around us. Bo is more than just the first Passover it is the morality of where we as human beings created in the divine image of Hashem exist. Actions have consequences and only you the individual can choose which path to take.

Jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @CirclePitBimah

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Va’eira begins with Moses doubting his ability and really not wanting a leadership position, and from what the Torah tells us the Hebrews agreed with Moses. This personality trait of Moses I can relate to in a complete and whole way, because like Moses I have made the same suicidal gestures with my career. On multiple occasions and to different levels of leadership I have made it clear that taking the step into management is not my goal and in so many words something I never plan on pursuing. This is not career suicide but it can be read as a suicidal gesture, in reality the incredibly small increase in pay is just not worth the stress of having to be available around the clock while “parenting” grown adults most of whom are many years older than me, and worse of all terminating the income of someone with children. I like to think this is Moses’s outlook as well besides it is not like there are no other candidates for the position, there is Aaron who becomes the head of the Hebrews 40 years after liberation and we learn later on of other Hebrews who really want the job as well.

Moses is smart enough, educated enough, and a believer enough to know the Hebrews will be set free. . . eventually. He knows it will be a long hard road to lead, move, and settle a new land with a people who have a collective body disfigured with deep scars from generations of slavery. Moses’s life is different than those he is charged to lead he understands more and leads for the greater good not the lesser few. Growing up in the west in a pursuit of wealth driven society it is nice to see that Moses’s lesson on humbleness over power is what makes him the most influential leader to Jews and one of the most influential leaders to all other people.

What does Moses’s reluctance say about Jews today? Are we as human beings scattered across a globe living comfortably under different types of government at odds with the type of character and leadership Hashem would like? Or are we so far removed from the Exodus that model is no longer relevant? Comment below or send me a message jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: circlepitbimah

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The Hebrew numbers are vastly multiplying and since dominance is about resource management fear of the other burns brighter and hotter in the hearts and minds of the Egyptians. Enter baby Moses, nothing special about him and the other newly born Hebrew boys except his mother has that rare perfect balance between fear and cunning. Knowing it is only a matter of time before Moses’s short life is made even shorter she places him in a basket and sets him afloat in the same river Pharaoh’s Daughter likes to bathe and relax in; and the stage is set the Hebrew G~d gives the royal family a beautiful baby boy via the sacred Nile River.

Nursed by his own Hebrew mother and loved and courted throughout his adoptive Grandfather’s kingdom Moses truly is the gift from the Hebrew G~d. In fact Moses is Egyptian for “because I drew him out of the water” and he keeps this name for the rest of his life. Like all of us Moses has a weakness, a character flaw, unlike the Patriarch’s flaws he is easily moved to a violent anger. After killing an Egyptian to protect Hebrew slaves he flees to the wilderness finds a wife and is content to settle down and live a quiet full life. Hashem allows this time to run its course before confronting Moses with a charge to return the Hebrews to the Promised Land. Hashem adjusts the spark within Moses allowing him to approach the Egyptians in a way their magicians will understand and respect if not fear.

Returning to the grand halls of his youth this quiet soft spoken man mutters “Pharaoh, let my people go,” and Pharaoh says “no.” Immediately following this discourse Pharaoh strengthens his people’s dominance over our people, what was hard before is now unbearable. The age of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs is unabashedly over and Hashem ushers in the Age of the Prophets with Moses and Aaron.

What symbolism does Moses in a Basket floating in another faiths holy land mean to you? Why do you think Hashem gives Moses the ability to perform miracles in a way the Egyptian magicians will be in awe of? Should Moses have a Hebrew name? Share your thoughts comment below or send me a message jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @circlepitbimah

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As in life dualism places an integral role within Judaism, and at no other time is the clash between religious observance and secular life more evident than as it is with Joseph. Joseph is the patriarch who represents a secular life accompanied by belief in fact our holiday of Hanukkah which is observed during Joseph’s Torah portions is a holiday founded around that clashing of the religious and secular worlds. Very fitting, why is all of this important? Vayechi continues this tradition, Israel blesses Joseph’s sons out of order defying the normal process, Joseph returns Israel’s body to the land of his forefathers for a religious burial, and Joseph stays in Egypt and when he dies is interred under Egyptian customs.

Even today it seems most of the time the secular minded of us are attacking the fundamental foundations of the more religious Jew’s life by trying to impose a different set of day to day values than what they are used to. Depending on where you live the orthodox do the same to us, and unfortunately this will never change. Sometimes a marriage will occur between both worlds other times it may seem we are more cruel to each other than our enemies are to us. We will never be without the other. Eden is the only place within creation where there are only two mitzvot the first is just live and the other is do not eat the fruits of this one tree. If we were all Rabbinic Torah masters what need would we have for the Torah and Jewish fellowship the same is true if we are all righteous secular Jews.

The world we live in demands a Torah and that will never change, what we can change is how we approach the other side. The reasoning which might sway me probably will not work on my polar opposite and it is arrogant to think the same is true when the situation is reversed. I will always need a Rabbi because I am not a Rabbi, just as a Rabbi will always need a student so that he can be a Rabbi.

Where do you think a person should draw a line, if any, between religious and secular pursuits? Have you ever felt singled out for attack by the other side of the same family? We want to hear from you. Comment below or send me a message jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @circlepitbimah.

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Joseph up until this point is the quintessential conservative archetype, he worked hard building himself up in wealth and power while maintaining an uncompromising stance in blind faith and “got over” being a slave and prisoner. The Joseph of Vayigash is the polar opposite of this approach, he provides land for his reconciled family to live on using his status as a statesmen, he also negotiates with the populace securing all the land and resources in Egypt for Pharaoh and his government creating a socialized large government, and it works with great success.

What really stood out to me this week is what transpires at the end of the Parsha, where Joseph barters back the land of Egypt from the locals for Pharaoh. As much as I might try to block out what is about to happen in the coming week’s portions in regards to the Hebrews in Egypt I just can not do it. People are not born racist, they are taught racism and yet in a way you can’t teach racism because when you think about it being racist is an impossible state of being for humans what is not is being an “economist.” Living my entire life in the United States stereotypically Jews and East Asians are viewed as smart and crafty but not industrious, anyone with black or brown skin is often portrayed as lazy and dim witted and of course not industrious. The industrious people of American society are the white Christians all of whom have built and maintain the only world super power. This is all ridiculous non-sense but we can see a parallel with our modern society and ancient Egypt. The Torah never mentions Joseph hiding the fact he was a foreign ex-slave who served hard time in prison, because he was able to provide for everyone he was excepted and loved as was his tribe by proxy. As the generations passed the Egyptians forgot about how Joseph showed mercy and treated all like a brother and his kinsmen became the others of society and thus a liability.

What do you think? Was Joseph driven by mercy? How has your views on other cultures within your own changed over the years? Please share post a comment below or send me a message jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: circlepitbimah.

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When Adam and Eve ate of the fruit one of the seeds they swallowed was that of privilege and conceit. We all have this seed embedded within in us from birth, but like all seeds for the weed to sprout and grow it must be tended to by a dutiful gardener tending flowers. The remnant of Jacob left in Israel watered, pruned, and nurtured this seed within Joseph causing the weed’s root to sink through his heart piercing his soul. When a weed is that embedded plucking it is no easy feat only completely removing the root will remedy the unwanted affliction.

The only hope for Joseph is an extreme one, sold out of jealousy into slavery by his brothers, he works his way into as good of a situation as a slave can. Due to lust he is cast into prison only to once again make a positive impression with his fellow inmates. The sin of forgetfulness rears its head leaving Joseph abandoned behind bars for a couple more years. Finally, Joseph’s crop of privilege and conceit has withered and been plucked from his soul, mind, and body, he is redeemed and ready for his place as a lynchpin in the Patriarchal succession within Judaism.

Only by the grace of Hashem is Joseph pulled from prison after interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams predicting 7 bountiful years followed by 7 lean years. He shaves his beard…OH NO!!! marries a nice Egyptian girl…WHA WHA WHAT! and starts a very successful and important career as a freed man.

After what seems to be a long agonizing journey Joseph is complete. He has the spiritual integrity, the physical confidence, and the mental wisdom to provide for everyone in the region. Joseph knows what’s coming in just a few short years and yet he is mature enough to start a happy family in the present while working to provide for their needs in the near future. When the 7 lean years arrive and people start to go hungry, because of Joseph Egypt becomes the humanitarian capital of the ancient world. The balance Joseph has achieved within himself has allowed him to enjoy the present while preparing for the future, but what about his past?

No truly complete person can live only in the present with a nod to a prosperous future without coming to terms with lessons learned from their past. Joseph is no exception. When his brothers come to Egypt to purchase food he recognizes them immediately and manages the situation in a way where he will not neglect his duties but will still be reunited with his beloved elderly father. Joseph at this point in his life knows what happened in his past is not all his fault or his fathers or even his brothers. He knows they all played a part in the evil that transpired this realization alone allows for him to finally be reunited with his family.

The concept of patron saints is foreign to Judaism, however if it was part of our tradition I feel Joseph would play a much more prominent role in some circles. I feel a bond with him which I haven’t felt until this week. Like Joseph I do not live in Israel, in fact I am happy living in the southwest region of the United States. Like Joseph I have a Hebrew name and a “Gentile” name. Like Joseph I have been in serious relationships with non-Jews and while in them never compromised my beliefs (don’t worry Kosher Gals I am currently on the market wink wink!) . Most importantly, like Joseph I like to think of myself as someone striving for balance in all aspect of my life.

How have you reconciled your past, present, and future? Where do you struggle when it comes to balancing the mind, body, and spirit? Does being orthodox help solve these problems? Reflect and grow and share. Comment below or send me a message

jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: CirclePitBimah

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Vayeshev is the story of Joseph, his coat, his many brothers, his relationship with Mr. and Mrs. Potiphar, and his interactions with the chief Baker and Butler of Pharaoh’s court. If that is not enough for you an interlude involving Judah, his daughter-in-law and the conception and birth of their twin sons Zerah and Perez takes place.

Maybe I approached this week’s portion with a cocky naivety, can you blame me? Vayeshev’s brim is overflowing with people who can just as easily play the hero as well as the villain. All four chapters are full of jealousy, deceit, envy, and self centeredness only to be garnished with modesty, self realization, spiritual growth, and overcoming the hurdles of life, and yet I have nothing insightful to share. In fact I had for lack of a better term an Anti-Vayeshev week. I had a great week. I work from home the majority of the time so when it snowed I was happy to camp out indoors and admire the winter wonderland from my windows and balcony. A couple days after being snowed in the temperature dropped to single digits during the day and sub-zero temperatures over night, again no worries my home is warm and I didn’t have to venture out. Towards the end of the week I went to a surprise party for my best friend, and I received a lot of recognition from my boss for going above and beyond this past year for the company I consult for. I lead a rough life.

As one week ends and the next begins I am looking forward to gleaning spiritual nutrition from the various commentaries I listen to and read which will only help me grow in a way where any arrogance sprouting within me will be plucked like a weed in a garden before causing ill intent in others, where I will not let jealousy drive my actions, and where I will have the foresight to avoid acts which will later result in being outed as a hypocrite.

How does the lessons found within Vayeshev aid you in your day to day acts? What advice can you offer the rest of us? We want to know comment below or send me a message. jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: CirclePitBimah.

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In this week’s portion Jacob returns to his homeland worried, and reasonably so, dividing his estate into two camps in hopes that when he meets his twin brother Esau any revenge meted out will only be felt by one side. Jacob isolates himself during the night to prepare himself for his meeting with Esau. During the night Jacob is confronted by a stranger whom he spends the rest of the evening wrestling with. Some believe this stranger to be Esau others believe him to be an angle, or a manifestation of Hashem, or even Jacob himself. Whoever Jacob wrestled with is not important what is important is how this plays into to the reunification of a Divine spark which happens the next morning.

Esau who was the extroverted half of the two was always physically strong and being that way he never had to look past the present moment to satisfy his needs. Jacob representing the introverted side was intelligent enough to know he needed time to plan and strategize in order to move towards his ultimate goal. The years he spent away working and building a large family with his wives and maidservants afforded him the time to become physically and strategically strong enough to confront Esau.

As the sun slowly rose and the dawn crept up ushering in the ultimate day of reckoning one hurdle remained for Jacob. . .he must conquer the introvert. Jacob physically overcomes the stranger only to be permantly handicapped yet reborn as Israel.

Israel, not Jacob, limps back to his camp waiting to confront the rest of his Divine spark resting within Esau. Israel, not Jacob, bows to his twin brother seven times. Esau is overcome with what he sees and embraces his brother Israel who is no longer his enemy Jacob. What a great end to a heart breaking conflict.

Vayishlach really spoke to me this week, more than I can every remember it doing in the past. Shortly after starting Circle Pit the Bimah I was forced to come to a head with myself. I was at a point were I felt overwhelmed, in other words I felt like the Greek character Atlas on a bad day. One night I had a dream where I’m in a suit walking through a city which always acts as the backdrop for most of my dreams. I’m looking past the  high rise sky line into mountains covered by jungle, and I think to myself I need to walk over there for Shul since today is Friday and the sun is about to set. So I walk and walk and walk never really getting any closer to my goal, finally I get frustrated and give up, rationalizing that there will always be another Shabbat why worry about it. I then walk down a flight of steps into a basement resulting in me waking up.

The entire next day I am not my usual self, more than anything I am mad at my subconscious for giving in so easily the night before. I decided to work from home, didn’t shave or bath, really didn’t do anything except clash with myself. That night I had another dream. A huge floating albino snake slithered up to me. The serpent was approximately 10-12 feet in length and its red eyes just stared at me while its body swayed back and forth behind it. As much as snakes creep me out I just stood there and stared back. Then it happened . . .WHAM!!! the serpent strikes face first into my chest. My body sways like wheat during a breezy summers day but my feat remain rooted to the earth. Defeated the serpent flies off and in my dream reasoning I understand why it lost. During the entire confrontation its mouth was closed so it could not whisper to me and break my resolve. The next morning I reevaluated a lot of the things that where baring down on me. Those I could change I did, those I could influence to a degree I did, and those I couldn’t do anything about I just stopped obsessing over and I have felt great ever since.

The things I was wrestling with while trivial compared to what Jacob had to overcome still forced me to reconcile Jeremiah with Jeremiah. What is your biggest obstacle? How did you find peace within yourself? We want to know. Comment below or message me jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @circlepitbimah.

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Almost half way through Genesis this week’s portion reads almost the same as the previous portions just with different names. Jacob is deceived in a similar way in which he deceived his father Isaac, Rachel becomes increasingly jealous at Leah and Bilhah for conceiving Jacob’s children, Laban covets Jacob’s wealth, and Hashem intervenes once again this time with dreams.

What sets Vayetze apart is Jacob’s ladder dream with celestial beings climbing up and down. At first I am a little puzzled that a ladder and not a tree appears in his dream. Trees are so important to Jews of all walks, trees represent life, knowledge, and mysticism, plus like a ladder you can climb up and down. So why a ladder and not a tree? Trees are climbed for fun but ladders are climbed for work. When you climb a ladder you look up or down and then move a rung consciously in your desired direction. Climbing a tree you scurry, reach, jump, swing, and smile your way around and down. Hashem placed a ladder in Jacob’s dream to show him and us that just living life in a way where you just go with the flow while easy is not what is expected from us. Hashem forgets nothing and through his covenants He is being patient and working really hard with humanity to get us back to a Eden-esq or Messianic state of being. The Ten Commandments are being written one by one on the tablets in Sinai they just will not be finished until many years later after Moses climbs the mountain like a ladder a second time.

Today we may have better technology, more comfortable lives, and more transparency in society but at our core our dilemmas are no different than those faced by Jacob. The ancient world is no more or less savage than the one today. Not just in war zones or developing countries but everywhere even in the only super power left in the world. I remember once when I was kid I decided to climb a pine tree. For over an hour I battled with bark in my eye, limbs scrapping open my skin, sap dripping all over me. It was a slow and painful process but I kept reaching and striving for that next rung of branches. When I made it to the top sure I was happy but I knew I would have to start the same painful process to descend. I may have went home with my eyes red and swollen, with blood oozing out of my hands and arms, and my clothes and hair matted with sap but I learned a lesson that is still with me to this day. The easy way is to just stay where your at flowing with the good and bad at the same time. Taking the first step in either direction is hard work in fact so hard that each additional step after the first is just another first step.

I challenge all of you to strive for that first step up, counter complacency and the wicked who are taking steps down. Tikkun Olam can only start inside of you.

What first steps have you worked hard to take? Do you ever stop for a break? Tell us about it comment below or message me jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @circlepitbimah

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This portion is about twin brothers who when looked at as one person create a deep, complicated, driven individual. The Quarrel between the two is really the conflict we all deal with on a daily basis within ourselves. Jacob leaves his mother’s womb clinging to his brothers heal. This tells us that in Rebecca’s womb as each body split and grew into Esau and Jacob there was a struggle. Esau being the physically stronger was able fight his way out first, Jacob while physically weaker was mentally determined to never give up by clinging to his brother.

As they grew older Esau was manly, hairy, loud, an outdoors man or the extrovert. Jacob was delicate, smooth skinned, quiet, an indoors man or the introvert. The extrovert in the here and now is always dominant while the introvert is able to visualize a goal and piece by piece work towards it only to dominate later. When Esau ate Jacob’s soup he was dominating because he had the soup and was no longer hungry Jacob on the other hand knew what he ultimately wanted and while giving up his meal was able to take a step towards his ultimate goal by making a trade for Esau’s birthright. Later on he tricks his father Isaac into giving him what would have been Esau’s blessing and Esau Jacob’s blessing enraging Esau. Esau’s rage is not at his mother for conspiring against him with Jacob or at his father for going along with the charade, but at his other half Jacob and by default himself.

How often do each of us allow our thoughts and actions to clash within us. How often do you let insecurities stop you from simply just getting better. Better at physical pursuits and better intellectually. There are many times when I am my worst enemy when I quarrel within myself for not being the strongest, the most outgoing, the wittiest. What is your quarrel? How have you reconciled your extrovert and introvert sides? Let us know comment below or message me jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @circlepitbimah,

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This may seem like a transitional portion but an underlining concept is present; and that concept is choices. Reflecting over the previous portions in this year’s cycle the choices made form a linking chain. The interesting thing is most of these decisions are made by our matriarchs giving them a feminine flavor over a masculine one. The idea of masculine and feminine means a lot more than the outline on the public restroom door you use they represent everything from language rules to the approach someone takes during real life situations. In the Torah we see where the feminine approach is more cerebral while the masculine is more physical. Think about it Eve chooses to partake of the fruit Adam follows suit. Sarah chooses to build a life and family with Abraham, while he acts out of fear to preserve his own well being; and ultimately it is Rebecca’s choice to leave her home only to, believe it or not, fall in love with Isaac and what does Isaac do he takes her into his tent and weds her.

I could go on and on categorizing events in Torah as masculine or feminine but its more beneficial for each of us to reflect and do that ourselves. Which pieces of our collective history do you view as masculine and which do you view as feminine? Comment below I want to know what you think. Or message me jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter:@circlepitbimah.

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In Vayeira the split between Abraham’s first son Ishmael and his younger son Isaac takes place. Two brothers, two nations, two faiths, two names that start with the letter I, and it is precisely that I (or you, me. Etc.) against I . We as created beings infused with the knowledge of good and evil are constantly at odds with ourselves and others to the Nth degree. Call it religion, opinion, politics, or whatever we like labels and we like taking sides. For example, this faith of ours has numerous denominations and right now Chasidic and unaffiliated liberal Judaism are popular while everything in between seems to be struggling a little. It’s so very hard not to be dismissive of the other. Being accepting of the other side of the coin is scary it’s like saying I might be wrong, and who would ever want to be that?

Sarah’s disappointment in herself leads to unneeded pressures within her home. Ishmael is likened to a stubborn animal only because his father’s preferred wife is jealous of him while his mother his jealous of Sarah. He is a boy placed into a domestic war zone by others, of course he is going to be difficult at times. Think about this when Sarah makes Hagar and Ishmael leave their home Abraham is saddened while Hashem provides for them in the wilderness, He even blesses Ishmael by allowing him to father a nation. On the other side of the line we read that Isaac is the son whom Abraham loves. Talk about a tangled web woven.

Here is why this is so important today. Many of us try and foster this ideal of the individual who is diverse and complex yet often at times we forget how to just live our lives with others. Dialogue and debate are crucial for a healthy community, but there is a time for that and a time to sit down, break bread, and laugh with those around you. It is important to live life and that can only truly be done when you and those around you are healthy in mind, body, and spirit. If all you dwell on is which side of the aisle some of your views may rest you will never foster a healthy life. Know what you believe and why just be able to foster that sense of a little bit of Eden while living your life day to day.

Just as both brothers survived and prospered so can we as individuals and as a community. I want to know what you think! Comment below or send me a note. Jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter @circlepitbimah.

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The book of Genesis covers a lot of time and ground and that is something very easy to forget. At the start of this portion Abraham and his wife Sarah are young, married, childless, and still going by their birth names Abram and Sarai. We are led to believe Sarai has an attractiveness no man could resist not even the Pharaoh of Egypt who at that time was the most powerful man in the world. A few things transpire (we’ll get to that in a moment), a little more time passes Abram rescues his nephew Lot and gets blessed by Melchizedek. Decades pass Abram and Sarai are elderly and still childless a few more things transpire and Hashem changes Abram and Sarai’s names and commands circumcision, , , phew so much to digest.

Here is why I just can‘t seem to understand Abraham at that time he is one of the most righteous men on the planet. So why lie and basically negotiate your wife for your life and land? Here is a young man in a foreign land with a gorgeous and exotic young wife. He knows Pharaoh is the only person in a position to take her from him so what does he do he says this is my sister and then goes about his business literally. I don’t want this post to be apologetic or condemning I am a different man and live in a different time. We know this deal really really really bothers Sarai, and rightfully so, but I keep wondering just how angry does this make Hashem. Eventually Pharaoh learns the true nature of Abram and Sarai’s relationship and Hashem steps in inflicting Pharaoh with a plague.

The Torah never really goes into detail how Abram and Sarai get over this episode in their relationship, but we do know they continue to live together and hopefully do that happily. During this time Abram matures a lot and leads the efforts to rescue his nephew Lot. In his last adventure it ended with a plague inflicted on Pharaoh this time it ends with Melchizedek blessing Abram.

Now for the final part of the Lech-Lecha trilogy Abram and Sarai have entered their golden years childless, and it is no secret having an heir is Abram’s hearts desire. Obviously feeling bad for her husband Sarai decides to do what she can to make having a son happen. So what does she do? She arranges for her husband to step out of their tent and into Hagar’s, and of course a son Ishmael is conceived. Jealousy and tempers erupt as each compete for Abram’s affection. . . and then Hashem steps in again. Hashem changes Abram and Sarai’s name to Abraham and Sarah, tells Abraham his children will spawn nations, and then tells him to clean up himself, his son, and his male servants down there. Oy vey my head is spinning.

All of the above is why I could just never understand Abraham there is no denying he meant well and loved Hashem and his family, but c’mon MAN! What are your thoughts on Abraham, Sarah, Hagar, and Ishmael? Have you ever felt that Hashem has had to step in after your well intended actions didn’t really end up being so well intended? Am I being too hard or not hard enough on Abraham? Let me know post below or send me a note jeremiah@punktorah.org

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Why a remix and not a cover? In a way Noah and Company does everything backwards, basically mixing it up instead of redoing what has already been done. Adam and Eve start out literally rooted in paradise, you know cut off from the rest of world just chilling with plants and animals. Noah and his family like the first family spend a portion of their lives in a controlled separate environment chalk full of animals and seeds. What is so interesting about this is Eden is a fixed point physically and spiritually while the Ark is a sanctuary at the mercy of a turbulent sea. For me the lesson is this, there are times when you will be grounded in life and times when you feel uprooted and not in control BUT Hashem is in both those places providing enough while you figure out what steps to take next.

As I read this week’s portion I initially saw a parallel between the fruit from the Tree of Good and Evil which provided knowledge, forbidden or not it gave something to humanity. After the flood fruit shows up again this time in the guise of wine which when drank in excess takes knowledge away. I think there is a lot we can learn by discussing this, but when I sat down to open that door I kept thinking about Eden being a rooted shelter and the Ark an uprooted shelter. Then I realized why this idea kept creeping into my mind. I’m an easily satisfied guy. I’m happy when I’m not worrying. Like many the current economic and social unrest is definitely making me a Noah and not an Adam. My Ark is knowing that no matter what happens I will always have a home, food, and family. My flood is I like only working 1 job and not 2, I like not being dependent financially on others I prefer being financially independent.

Remember if your battening down the hatches on your Ark Hashem is there with you, and eventually the waters will recede. Its okay to be Noah weathering the storm knowing its temporary and will end at any moment.

Let me know what you think. What came to your mind while you read Noah? Jeremiah@punktorah.org

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As I read this weeks portion what stands out the most, to me, at this point in my life are three core principles we all experience day in and day out. The first principle is striving for the ideal, Adam is created THEN placed within Eden. Later on Adam must toil to provide for his family‘s basic needs. The second is stewardship, Adam and Eve’s purpose in Eden is to keep the garden “dressed” and “kept“, this means keeping the Earth and Animals healthy and unburdened. Yes, Tikun Olam is that old. Last but not least, loyalty which plays the largest role in the early days of mankind. This last one is the heaviest and most complex and for times sake all I’m going to say is Adam and Eve stuck together after eating forbidden fruit, a generation later Cain’s wife stayed loyal to him despite the blood on his hands, and to this day Hashem has never abandoned us despite how much we may take Him for him granted.

Even now in modern times we all to some degree strive and make our life and the lives of those we love better, whether its working long hours, volunteering, or just always being there for someone that ideal of a balanced perfect world or Eden fuels our actions, and while no one is perfect and without fault we stick together, we forgive, we heal, and we grow.

I would love to know your thoughts please post below or drop me a line jeremiah@punktorah.org

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Love, PunkTorah.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IiWYT8oSAiE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQ1OM10mhL8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4pQsQfIwuok

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIw175kn494

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But the dvar for this week…yeah…we outsourced it!

Check out two clips from our friends at G-dCast for this week’s spiritual inspiration. L’Shana Tovah!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vEOya0ZG0I0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7jgNNB1rONw

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This is what the young rabbi said about us. Now, he was actually defending us. We had been criticized for being a secret Jews For Jesus conspiracy (which we aren’t) and this rabbi was trying to set the record straight. His critique of us was, “oh, well everything PunkTorah does is weird, or silly, and the leadership and volunteers have no idea what they are doing — but at least they aren’t Christians!”

I wasn’t sure whether to say thank you or not.

The issue of “who knows best” is an all too common one. I would argue that Jews suffer from Rebbe-itis…we have yet to discover that the internet is the best tool for Jewish learning. We still look to the person who went to JTS or RRC or HUC or Yeshivah Blah Blah Blah to tell us how to be Jewish. This stems originally, I believe, from the Temple period. Modern Jews today are still looking for the Levite Priest to offer us a kosher sacrifice.

But Parshat Nitzavim goes against this logic entirely.

For this commandment which I command you this day, is not concealed from you, nor is it far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, “Who will go up to heaven for us and fetch it for us, to tell [it] to us, so that we can fulfill it?” Nor is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us and fetch it for us, to tell [it] to us, so that we can fulfill it?” Rather, [this] thing is very close to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can fulfill it. (30:11-14)

Do we need rabbis? Yes. We need rabbis like we need auto mechanics. When my car needs an oil change, I could probably do it myself. Is there a chance I could screw it up? Probably. So I take it to the mechanic. But in reality, I’m smart enough to do it. I’m just being lazy.

Moses tells us not to be lazy with Torah, here. The commandments are close to us. They are in our hearts and mouths, not the hearts and mouths of someone else who knows better.

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We are so thrilled by the response we have already received about The G-d Project and look forward to you checking out the videos. This is an ongoing project, with new videos posting every single week.

What does this have to do with Parshat Ki Tavo?

Ki Tavo describes the relationship between G-d and giving. We are each to give one tenth of our first fruits as a sacrifice. The logic goes: we were slaves in Egypt, G-d rescued us, brought us to a new land, and now we give our first fruits as a way of saying thank you.

The G-d Project is a similar idea: each of us, no matter who we are, whatever kind of Jew we may be, can offer our souls to G-d. Remember, the giving of the first fruits was a public act. And while some of us do not have a garden we can sacrifice, we can sacrifice our time by making a video that will help others around the world connect with the divine.

So check out a few of our favorite videos below. And submit your own first fruits!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSW2ySJ5WPg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oW-UUChCMAs

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGHWfdp616M

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This week’s Torah portion has more commandments than any other portion, including rules on how to fight, what to wear and how to farm. Different mitzvot cover different, practical parts of Jewish life. Some of them, like the laws of battle, don’t apply to some of us. And that’s OK. Because someone, somewhere, needs to know the right way to fight in a Jewish way. The Torah understands that. The great thing about Torah is that it is diverse. It covers a lot of ground. At different places in our life, we will need different things.

Limmud gets that as well. While some of us studied text, others were hiking. If Kabbalistic self-help isn’t your thing, then take the challah baking class. Perhaps you’d rather drink and dance to Israeli hip hop, or watch a Jewish-themed movie or lead a session on interfaith and conversion issues. Either way, at Limmud, there is something for everyone.

Torah gives us the opportunity, no matter where we are in life, to come home to the heart of the Jewish experience. And the staff and volunteers or Limmud are doing that exact same thing. Limmudfest therefore, is a living Torah value. Yasher koach to those who have brought this experience to the world and may it be God’s will that there be a Limmudfest in every town, on every weekend, forever and all time. Y’hi ratzon.

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I would say no. Here’s why: Judaism encompasses a vast range of beliefs and ideas. We have a very spacious tent, and people with a lot of different views about God, the Torah, life, etc. take shelter under it. If we had a pope, or a theocratic king of some sort as is described in Shofetim, who decided what was officially Jewish and what wasn’t, a lot of people would leave our tent, break off, and start their own groups, just as happened with Catholicism, and those of us left in the tent would be alienated from who left and vice versa. We’re a small enough tribe without pushing people away by creating official doctrines and dogmas!  What comes of not having a pope is that we are not a religion of beliefs, but of actions (mitzvot) and of a common past (Torah). Parsha Shofetim was written in a time long before we had such wide variations in belief and practice as we do now, a time when having a theocracy was possible and perhaps even desirable. But that time is past, and the most important thing now is to maintain our unity as a people. I think Judaism’s strength and vitality lies in its variety. I love that we have so many flavors: Orthodox Ripple, Conservative Chip, Reform Swirl, Reconstructionist Crunch, and so on. Each one of us may have a favorite flavor, but in the end, it’s all ice cream and it’s all delicious!

Another thing that strikes me about this Torah portion is the injunction against destroying the fruit trees of a besieged city [20:19-20]. I could talk, as many Jewish environmentalists before me have done, about how this represents a positive command against wanton destruction, an injunction against thoughtless waste and greed (ba’al taschit). What I’d rather do, though, is focus on the verse that says “Are trees of the field human to withdraw before you into the besieged city?” [20:19]. The Torah is telling us to listen to those who don’t have voices, and to protect those who can’t protect themselves.  I consider this verse merely an extension to the Torah’s constant refrain of telling us to be kind to the stranger, the widow, the orphan, etc. This is the Torah’s shorthand for telling us to defend the defenseless, to help the helpless, and in general to support those in our community who need it. Trees are just another group in our community who need our help and can’t defend themselves.

Furthermore, trees figure very prominently in our tradition. The Torah itself is called a Tree of Life. It is said of the Baal Shem Tov that he was able to hear the voices of trees, and of King Solomon that he could understand the speech of the birds. Our tradition teaches us that listening to nature and immersing ourselves in the natural world can be a window to spirituality, a gate to wisdom. As summer draws to a close, don’t forget to take a little walk this shabbat and  listen to the trees and the birds. You might find that they have much to teach you.

This week’s dvar written by Miriam Bak.

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLdeQYSTJik

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ljtFcFRYk2g

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Here’s what I gather: circumcision is a mitzvah because Abraham did it, and so should we, right? On the other hand, a circumcision isn’t a child’s choice. It’s something that happens to you without your consent. I suspect if babies could talk, they wouldn’t be too keen on elective surgery.

Also, it’s unfair that men have the opportunity to perform mitzvot that women can’t. And what about transgender people or people with ambiguous genitals? Aren’t we all children of the same G-d, fair and equal? How can G-d put us in a position where one person’s ability to glorify Him/Her is above others? Seems lame to me.

Circumcising the heart resolves that issue. It tells us, metaphorically, to remove the junk that surrounds out hearts, that keeps the good stuff from coming in. Regardless of who we are, and what we have going on “down stairs”, we can equally take part in the mitzvah of circumcision by putting G-d first and peeling away the layers of our own ego that keep us from being truly made in the image of the Lord.

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That same week, an Orthodox rabbi told me that he thought things were getting better Jewishly! Chabad was getting bigger, more progressive Jews were going baal teshuva, and that Artscroll was the greatest thing ever for helping the Jewishly illiterate find the proper tools of study.

So what’s the answer? Are we better Jews or worse Jews than those scrappy ex-slaves at Mt. Sinai?

Moses, in this week’s Torah portion, seems to think that things will get worse: . Moses predicts the Hebrews will enter the promised land and turn their backs on everything holy, practicing idolatry and basically just being little bad asses (Deut. 4:23-30). It looks like the “it gets worse” philosophy wins.

Or does it?

Here’s the problem: in last week’s Torah portion, we learned that that previous generation of Hebrews (the ones who actually lived in Egypt) were so bad that God commanded that they not enter the promised land (Deut. 1:34)! If things get worse, and the first Hebrews were not good enough to enter the promised land, then what does that say about future generations?

Also, remember that the Book of Deuteronomy was a lost text. One would think that if the ancient Hebrews were so holy, they wouldn’t have lost one of the five books of Moses, the greatest prophet to ever live and liberator of thousands from slavery.

Maybe we’re bad, and will always be bad? Or maybe things are getting better, but the bar is set incredibly low?

I’m not sure. But either way, as this week’s portion reads, “shma, Yisroel, Adonai elohainu Adonai echad”. Listen, Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. This simple phrase takes my breath away. All of a sudden, I don’t care if we’re better or worse, or if things will get better. I just want to sit under HaShem’s sukkah of peace.

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But now, I’m starting to wonder if Moses was a pain, too. He repeats the same thing over and over again. Like an old man who forgets what he’s told you (and is so lonely he won’t stop talking for fear you’ll walk away), Moses retells the same stories, sometimes adding a few new details, or sometimes glossing over stuff. Parshat Devarim is that exact case.

Of course, it could just be that Moses is responding to his audience. The Hebrews might not be the sharpest knives in the drawer (remember, they were slaves — not a lot of education going on there) and they also love to move around a lot. It’s amazing that JuBus (Jewish Buddhists) even exist, since the prerequisite for Buddhist enlightenment is the ability to sit still for more than five minutes without talking, something that Jewish folks have an impossible time with.

Perhaps there’s something zen-like about this constant repetition of story telling. Active meditation, the practice of doing the same task correctly over and over again until reaching a profound state of bliss, in common in Buddhist monasteries. Remember the Karate Kid…wax on…wax off. It’s that kind of thing.

Moses might have been tapping into that: the peacefulness that comes with practicing the mundane in such a way that we receive some sense of profound knowledge. Of course, it was the Jewish scientist Albert Einstein who said that the definition of insanity was “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results”.

Bummer.

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-Psycho Killer by Talking Heads

This week at PunkTorah, we’re not going to try to reinvent the wheel by giving you huge insights into the radical nature of Parshat Masei. Instead, we’re going to share with you some of our favorite Masei messages from around the web. As Pirkei Avot says, “say little, do much.” David Bryne must be a Jewish studies scholar.

JewU Rabbi Johnathan Ginsburg YouTube

Encyclopedia Masei Wikipedia

Masei: A Case Study in Biblical Urban Planning G-dcast.com

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And you wonder why more people don’t take the Torah seriously? It’s like cut-and-paste poetry. Once the story gets really good, G-d interrupts everything with a census or some obscure set of rules that makes no sense. Or it starts off really boring, and you give up half way, only to find out the really good stuff is toward the end.

The Torah doesn’t have a good beginning, middle and end. And it’s really not meant to, either. I think there’s three basic reasons for that.

First, the Torah is a reflection of life. And life doesn’t have a real beginning, middle and end. Sure, individual lives start and finish, but the legacy of humanity lasts forever (or at least until SkyNet and the Terminators finish us off). At any rate, Torah reflects life, and life is filled with low points, high points, boring, pointless interruptions, scandals, intrigue, and everything else…and sometimes the order of those things doesn’t make any sense.

Second, the Torah is a reflection of Creation. There’s a midrash that says that G-d looked into the Torah before creating the world. I like that. The Torah is flawed at times, and frankly, so is the world. Now, I’m not calling HaShem a crummy writer or a bad creator, but the world isn’t perfect, and if you read the Torah enough, you’ll find out that the Torah isn’t perfect all the time either.

Finally, the Torah is the reflection of the human soul…sometimes for better, and sometimes for worse. This week, we’re dealing with the souls of women and warriors, liars and hinderers, revenge-seekers and oppressors. Next week, the soul may change, and go in a new direction. But the Torah does us a huge favor and lets us see all sides of the soul. Hopefully, the soul doesn’t end either.

So what’s the bottom line? Don’t let the strange ups-and-downs of the Torah, the weird jumping back and forth from women-and-their-dads-to-blood-and-guts keep you from learning. Life, Creation, and the human spirit has its ups-and-downs, and its weird moments, too.

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When I was eleven years old, my sister threw a phone at me.  Granted, we had been fighting. Exchanging ear-piercing screams and clawing at each others faces like two Jerusalem cats hissing over territory. 

I don’t remember what we were fighting about.  (My hunch is it was clothing.) But, I remember the feeling as I turned to leave, and the clunky plastic phone slammed against my back, falling to pieces beside my feet.

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So in light of that, this week’s Torah portion is stolen from our friends at G-dcast. The narrator is Hesta Prynn, and if you don’t know who that is, then clearly you don’t live in NY. Watch and learn.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UhZoihnMII0

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The parshah in a nutshell, thanks to our bearded brethren at Chabad…with jokes and off-color commentary by Patrick Aleph:

After 40 years of journeying through the desert, the people of Israel arrive in the wilderness of Zin. Miriam dies and the people thirst for water. G-d tells Moses to speak to a rock and command it to give water. Moses gets angry at the rebellious Israelites and strikes the stone. Water issues forth, but Moses is told by G-d that neither he nor Aaron will enter the Promised Land.

The moral of the story is that even the greatest of leaders have a bad day. I love the fact that God puts up with every whiney complaint that the Hebrews through His/Her way, but the second that Moses gets angry, God punishes him. Totally. Unfair.

Venomous snakes attack the Israelite camp after yet another eruption of discontent in which the people “speak against G-d and Moses”; G-d tells Moses to place a brass serpent upon a high pole, and all who will gaze heavenward will be healed. The people sing a song in honor of the miraculous well that provided the water in the desert.

Here’s some insane Hebrew logic:

Idolatry is bad. God is the only God. However, if venomous snakes are attacking you, feel free to make an idol to them and you’ll be healed, Vatican Miracle-style. I think this might be the wrong religion?

Balak, the King of Moab, summons the prophet Balaam to curse the people of Israel.

Wow. Someone hates the Jews. Shocking.

On the way, Balaam is berated by his ass,

Hahaha…you said “ass”.

…who sees the angel that G-d sends to block their way before Balaam does. Three times, from three different vantage points, Balaam attempts to pronounce his curses; each time, blessings issue instead.

Balaam and I apparently have the same problem: we try to say one thing and the opposite comes out.

The people fall prey to the charms of the daughters of Moab and are enticed to worship the idol Peor. When a high-ranking Israelite official publicly takes a Midianite princess into a tent, Pinchas kills them both, stopping the plague raging among the people.

Murder is justified if it keeps people from gettin’ busy behind a tent. Unless of course you’re David, who had 400 wives and concubines. In that case, you’re a tzadik.

So you get the drift. All of the different elements of this Torah portion have a weirdly made up, hypocritical feel to them. And that’s totally OK with me. I can handle the fact that I am supposed to learn holiness from murderers, talking donkeys, and a God who has messed up priorities. None of this makes any sense. And guess what? Life doesn’t make sense most of the time.

Sometimes, you just have to follow the white rabbit down the hole and see where you end up. So turn on, tune in and drop out…you have my utterly non-rabbinic permission.

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In this week’s parshah, Korach decides that Moses needs to be overthrown. In his mind, Moses has too much authority and sits on his high horse, talking to G-d, and looking down on everyone else.

So he challenges Moses authority. He gathers a bunch of guys, and they confront Moses. So Moses calls him out on it! Moses and Korach go to the Tent of Meeting with fire pans of incense and sure enough, G-d sides with Moses. Korach and his dudes get swallowed up by the earth and the rest die in a massive plague.
Basically, you don’t mess with G-d.

A lot of people read this Torah portion as a way of promoting fundamentalism. “See, if you rebel against G-d, you’ll be punished! So burn your Urban Outfitters shirts and step away from the indie rock, because you need to sit all day reading Gemara or G-d will punish you all the days of your life.”

That’s a lie. And they know it.

This story is actually about DISTRUSTING authority.

In the first part of the story, we learn that Korach comes from a powerful family. The Midrash (Jewish legends) about Korach teaches that he was wealthy, too. And if you look at the people he recruited to overthrow Moses, they weren’t anti-establishment. They were princes, men from the assembly, nobility. They were yuppie power brokers!

Korach used these two hundred and fifty men to challenge Moses, not because they wanted equality, but they wanted power for themselves. Worse than that, they managed to trick people into following them under the lie that “everyone in the congregation is holy” (Numbers 16:3).

There are people in this world: politicians, celebrities, people in power, who claim that they are looking out for the common man. But sometimes, these people aren’t really looking out for you. They are just using you.
Why did G-d side with Moses and Aaron and not Korach? Because Moses and Aaron were the real deal. Yes, they were the guys in charge. But their hearts were in the right place. They weren’t out for “number one” like Korach.

So if you’re going to challenge the system, go for it! G-d likes rebellious people. Just make sure that you aren’t being tricked by some yuppie jerk who talks a good game.

This week’s d’var is a repeat, but some goodies are just worth reposting. Originally posted here: http://punktorah.org/?p=1028

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I think it’s useful to read this parshah with the thought in mind of the Nation of Israel being like one person. In her childhood, Israel was enslaved in Egypt. Then, G-d freed her, and brought her out of Egypt “with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm.” In her adolescence, she travels through the desert, and grumbles and rebels against G-d, as we saw in Behaalosecha. This week, we get some of Israel’s sort of teenage angst in that she compares herself to other nations, finds herself lacking and inferior, and feels to weak and unimpressive to challenge them. So, G-d decides that Israel is still too immature to inherit the Promised Land, and gives her 40 years of wandering as an opportunity to develop the maturity and self-confidence that come with time and experience. If we now switch back to the Israel-as-a-nation view, we notice that the generation that does get to enter the Promised Land is the generation that was not born in slavery (plus Caleb and Joshua, the other two spies who gave a truthful report and who tried to bolster the Israelites’ spirits). This suggests that the generation that was enslaved in Egypt had some part of their spirit broken that cannot be repaired; they do not have the strength and confidence to be a free people.

What happens next is that Israel rebels, climbs up a mountain in an attempt to rush into the Holy Land despite the fact that G-d told them they wouldn’t enter it (still sounding very much like rebellious teenagers), and they get trounced by the Amalekites and the Canaanites, “even unto Hormah [a place of utter destruction]” (14:45). And when they are in this state, afraid, angry, sad, frustrated, burying their dead and caring for their wounded, G-d asks Moses to tell them about challah, and about tzitzit—things that their children will be commanded to do once they enter the Promised Land. I think this was G-d’s way of trying to get them to look towards the future, rather than focus on their depressing present, and to think about how their children would someday connect to G-d and live holy lives.

Just before the commandment for tzitzit (fringes), the parshah relates an episode in which a sabbath-breaker is stoned to death by the community, as commanded by G-d through Moses. Right after offering this negative example of behavior, the Torah gives us a tool to help us avoid it—fringes to remind us to fulfill the mitzvot every day. Am I uncomfortable with the idea of stoning sabbath-breakers to death? Of course! ….And I’m in good company. The Rabbis throughout the ages were constantly softening and/or effectively deleting many of the harsh death penalties laid out in Mosaic law, often by making the legal and evidential requirements for such a penalty almost impossible to meet. The thing to take away, I think, is to remember why tallitot exist: as a reminder to keep us from “going astray” (15:39). The Rabbis tell us that the blue thread (tekhelet) of the tzitzit resembles the sea, that the sea resembles the heavens, and that the heavens resemble the Throne of Glory. Every time we look at our tzitzit, or perhaps just every time we look at the sea, or into the sky, we should remember who we are, why we do what we do, and Who it was that made us that way.

Guest post by Michelle Bak.

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This week we learn about the Grave of Desire (sounds like a Cruxshadows song). The short version of the story is that the Hebrews are hungry, they beg for some meat, God gets mad bur finally says “OK” and throws down some quail. Of course, the Hebrews go at the poor birds like rednecks at a KFC buffet and God gets mad (again) and strikes people dead. Ouch. The place where they died carries the name Grave of Desire.

Goth culture revolves around freedom and romance. Clearly God likes freedom: if that weren’t the case, human beings would be really different…almost Stepford Wife in appearance. And I have to admit that the Torah is the greatest piece of romance literature ever written: God’s love for the Jewish people, often unrequited, is enough to write love on your arms. Jealousy, anger, rage, passion, demands, covenant, abandonment, reconciliation, forgiveness…”Jewish” is the greatest love story ever.

So the next time you see a kid wearing a Birthday Massacre t-shirt and Twilight bracelet from Hot Topic, you’ll think, “wow, there’s someone with Judaism on their mind!” Probably not…but at least I can hope.

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Without going into all the gory details, Parshat Naso describes how to prove that a woman has cheated on her man. It involves going in front of a temple priest and drinking “bitter waters” made from a mix of water (duh!), dirt and burned parchment which formerly read God’s name. She drinks the water and if she lives, she didn’t cheat. If she cheated…well…you get the drift. Very Salem Witch Trials, if you ask me.

Adultery, in the Biblical sense of the term, is always the burden of the woman. When read literally, Biblical adultery only occurs when a married woman has sex with someone who isn’t her husband. A married man, by that logic, could sleep with any woman he wants provided she isn’t married. That seems a little too convenient if you’re a guy.

Outside of this week’s portion, it could be argued that there is no worse “curse” by the Torah’s standard than being born a girl:

• Adam is superior to Eve his helper (the term helper in most places in the Torah refers to an inferior helping a superior)
• Polygamy is a common practice in the post-Creation account, the Patriarchs and in the story of Kings. In addition, men were allowed to keep concubines
• We cannot know for sure if Sarah giving Abraham permission to sleep with Hagar included any consent on Hagar’s part
• Lot offered his two virgin daughters to an angry crowd of rapists
• The wives of slaves remained the property of the slavemaster after a slave was set free in the seventh year
• Male soldiers can force a captive woman to marry them

There are more passages than this. But you get the drift.

The perceived bias against women in the Torah has made many an atheist. Looking at these passages in a vacuum, it would be clear that the Bible contains a moral code not worth supporting in a modern era — especially if egalitarianism were involved.

The real question is whether or not the Torah is a static document, one frozen in time (as atheists argue) or a living document. My take is the latter. While parshah like Naso and the passages above are unsettling, it’s also worth noting that women have been great political agents (Hebrew midwives outsmarting Pharaoh, Deborah, Rahab, Michal, Huldah, Miriam, Ruth, Esther), have the same status in parenting as their husbands (Exodus 21:15), and have even been instrumental in God changing halachka (see Numbers 27).

The Torah does not give one view of anything. For every commandment that makes God look like a blood thirsty, jealous cult figure, there is another that shows God as the Universalist who loves all of Creation. For every Eve who brings downfall to man, there is an Esther who save us all. For every “you shall” there is a “you shall not”.

The Bible is not the problem. The problem is what we choose to do with it.

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The Torah is painfully redundant and boring at times. That’s why we at PunkTorah have searched low and high for the best Bamidbar videos we could find to inspire you to look past some of the Torah’s less exciting parts and trudge through it…

G-dCast

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FoTfQrg8q48

PunkTorah (last year)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lrsq6i91dXw

Rabbi Johnathan Ginsburg (famous Jewish blogger)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xCdQbN9oWpc

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God tells the Hebrews that if they do not follow the commandments, He will “order upon you shock, consumption, fever, and diseases that cause hopeless longing and depression. You will sow your seed in vain, and your enemies will eat it…You will eat the flesh of your sons, and the flesh of your daughters” (Lev. 26:16-29).

Eating your own children? That sounds like a good enough reason to me!

Of course, there is always a positive side to life. Should the Hebrews choose to remain true to God, their reward is an abundant harvest and safety from their enemies.

If we look at Parshat Bechukotai and read it plainly, then there’s no need to question why the world operates the way it does. Good things happen to the faithful and bad things happen to the unfaithful.

Yet, the world doesn’t seem to operate this way. Suffering happens to all people, regardless of how good they are or what their level of Jewish practice is. Does this mean that the Torah is wrong? Absolutely not!

The Torah has layers of meaning. And it’s my belief in this week’s portion that we’re meant to read this as a psychology book, not a theology book. Instead of reading Parshat Bechukotai and seeing an angry, Zeus-like God in the sky throwing down bolts of lightning, we should turn inward and see how the rewards and punishments described in the Torah reflect something that is deeply connected to personal happiness.

If you follow My statutes and observe My commandments and perform them, I will give you..

• Security
• Bravery
• Comfort
• Love

If you…do not perform all these commandments…I will [give you]…

• Hopeless longing and depression
• Breaking of your pride
• Bereavement
• No satisfaction
• Fear
• Paranoia

What God is talking about here is not something physical like grapes, winning wars and making babies, but something that is deeply psychological! Not following God, it seems, takes us out of a rhythm of life and puts us into a place where we are never satisfied and struggling just to get by emotionally.

This might sound over the top, but consider the recent work that has been done in Positive Psychology. Dr. Tal Ben Shahar, an Israeli and popular professor at Harvard, has suggested in lectures that the rituals and teachings of Judaism are directly related to discoveries he has made in what truly makes people happy. His research unlocked something in the scientific community that Judaism has taught for thousands of years: it does not matter how much money or success we have, what really matters is our connection to community, family, a sense of purpose and reason to life. These are the values of Judaism and what the mitzvot are all about.

So although it’s easy to throw away the commandments as outdated folkways, consider that it’s these “silly rules” that may lead you to the kind of happiness you’ve always wanted.

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I did that thing where I sound like I know what I’m talking about but I’m really just pulling it from out of thin air. “Oh, because of Parshat Behar.”

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Oh, you know it’s about how the Hebrews are tied to ha-aretz (the land) and how we have to give the earth time to heal itself after the harvest and how we have to leave the corners of our field for strangers and the poor. Stuff like that.”

“OK, but what does that have to do with locally sourced turnips in urban neighborhoods?”

This conversation about locally sourced, organic and free range-ness reminded me of a sketch on my new favorite TV show Portlandia…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2LBICPEK6w

I don’t think that Parshat Behar’s original intention was to make us work at a food co-op and get masters degrees in eco-psychology from hippie liberal arts colleges. Remember, this parshah was written by people who survived on subsistence farming and herding animals. The ancient Israelites weren’t shopping at Whole Foods and blogging about genetically modified corn.

But Behar does tell me something important about the Jewish People: we’re ahead of the trends. Our strength, whether its in farming, learning, praying, surviving, fighting, or what have you, is that we look ahead at the future to try to figure out the right way to do things. The Torah is filled with things that the Jewish people rejected (child abuse, idolatry, needless animal cruelty) and replaced those “pagan” trends with something better.

So while I laugh at nerdy kids from Brooklyn trying to grow radishes on land that once was a crack den, I have to check myself and realize that they are a lot smarter than I am. One day, I hope to be the kind of person who will lend a hand.

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It seems that complex laws and customs are a theme in Judaism. In this particular Parsha we learn the times of the year, what sacrifices go with what holiday, what time of day, when to work, when not to work, when to eat and when to fast. All and all it is very detailed and– Let’s face it– Odd.

As I said before, complexities seem to be a reoccurring theme. We wear strange, round hats, wash our hands with weird, two handled cups and have strings hanging out from under our shirts. We are a nation “Set Apart”.

The bottom line question is: Why?

Our laws and customs are the glue that binds us together. They keep us unified even in our dispersion. Whereas many cultures have been swallowed up—Assimilated by their surroundings. Our “odd Traditions” have kept us, the Jewish people, unified and “Set Apart”. No matter where you go, all over the world, wherever the Jewish People are we are joined together. Although we may speak different languages, we might dress differently and for all intents and purposes BE different at first glance, we all share the “Yiddish Neshama”: The Jewish Soul. It is our traditions, those funny little things we do, that sustain and keep our unified soul alive and thriving.

So next time you are getting your Tefillen all tied up in knots or falling asleep at the Passover Seder, instead of thinking of them as complex and confusing, take a simpler look at it: By continuing the traditions of our forefathers we are immortalizing our people and keeping our faith— Our heritage, alive from Generation to Generation.

This week’s d’var written by Ian Cauthen.

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And a man who lies with a male as one would with a woman both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon themselves (Lev. 20:13).

It’s interesting to note that none of my friends are having theological problems with wearing blue jeans (Lev. 19:19), falsifying weights and measures (Lev. 19:35) or cussing out their mothers and fathers (Lev. 20:9).

I get it: I’m a big flaming liberal when it comes to Torah. I support gay rights. I have tattoos. I’m not on an epic quest to vandalize my local Buddhist monastery a la Abraham’s idol smashing and I’m freaked out by any attempt to create a new Sanhedrin in Israel (or anywhere for that matter).

Holiness is not just a matter of following rules. It’s also a matter of having a pure heart, for as the Torah tells us in this same portion:

Thou shalt not oppress thy neighbour…Thou shalt not curse the deaf, nor put a stumbling-block before the blind…in righteousness shalt thou judge thy neighbour…Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thy heart…thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself…if a stranger sojourn with thee in your land, ye shall not do him wrong…thou shalt love him as thyself; for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt (Lev 19:13-34).

So why do we struggle with one line of Torah about a sexual act, but don’t seem to be freaked out at all by the idea that we have to be one hundred percent selfless, loving all people as we love ourselves, treating everyone equally and never doing any harm to anyone, ever?

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In his essay “No, Everything Is Not Going to Be OK”, author Seth Godin eschewes the trite (and often empty) offer of hope that people seek. We are told by everyone from parents to spouses to managers to people at the other end of the bar that “it’s going to be OK”, when it is obvious that they barely understand our situation; when it is clear to us that it really WON’T be OK. But we choose to accept and believe their words because sometimes we want reassurance more than we want honesty or clarity.

Don’t get me wrong, I know that sometimes – maybe a lot of times – it WILL be OK. Our moment of panic is just that, and once the stress has passed things really will return to the way they were before.

But, Seth posits, when people need to create, or innovate, or adapt – in those situations, honestly it’s not going to be OK.

It’s going to be different. Some things MIGHT be better, but there’s a good chance that at least some things won’t be better, that some things won’t be the same and that some things could get worse. In fact, when we introduce change, there’s a chance that everything will get worse, at least for a while.

Standing at the edge of the sea – with the vast expanse of water in front of them and the might of the Egyptian army bearing down on them from behind, the Israelites may have realized this.

In that moment of panic, the more analytically minded Israelites might have pondered how they were simply facing one of the many possible bad outcomes of their choices – they could have stayed in Egypt and been killed by harsh labor, they could have failed to follow Moses’ instructions and succumbed to one of the plagues. Heck, they could have stubbed their toe walking out their door on the morning of liberation, gotten an infection, and died on the road to this current predicament.

I’m not going to waste time on pediatric theology. I’m not going to ponder whether the waters really parted, or whether Moses was one historical figure or an amalgamation of many, or any of those “big idea” questions today.

If you spend all your energy trying to figure out how that guy built a great big boat and put all those animals on it, you are missing the point. If you are computing the probability that a tsunami caused a massive low tide, and calculating how long 600,000 people would take to cross the resulting land bridge, you are missing a whole level of thought

Because I think that often (and especially at points in the Torah narrative like this), our holiest of writings is NOT asking us to think so much about what happened, but rather to focus on what people DID about what happened.

So let’s consider how a group of people decided to put one foot in front of the other to leave an abusive situation, a situation that was not healthy for them to be in (even though it may have been “the way things are” or even if others were thriving in that same situation). Consider that they braved blood and vermin and disease and fire and darkness (whether literal or metaphorical) to change their place. They stood up to the powers-that-be and kept demanding what they needed until those powers relented.

And when they stood at the edge of something new and vast, but with Pharaoh ready to drag them back, they may have felt like Al Pacino’s character in “The Godfather” series, “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!”

BUT… rather than sighing and hanging their head and going back to their codependent spouse or overly needy kids or their gang or their toxic workplace or whatever it was – instead of allowing everything to fall back into the status quo – they found that rare courage to keep creating, keep innovating, keep adapting to the REAL situation – not the one they wished it was, not the one they may have been sold. And it also wasn’t their worst fears come to life, either.

Seth states: “No, everything is not going to be okay. It never is. It isn’t okay now. Change, by definition, changes things. It makes some things better and some things worse. But everything is never okay. Finding the bravery to shun faux reassurance is a critical step in producing important change. Once you free yourself from the need for perfect acceptance, it’s a lot easier to launch work that matters”.

Looking at the big picture, Seth is wrong. Really, gigantically, monumentally wrong. It actually *is* going to be OK, at least from God’s perspective. It’s all going to come out just the way it is supposed to. It was OK, it is currently OK and it’s still going to be OK 5 minutes from now. But that’s the long view, the “when we look back on this tomorrow (or next week or maybe in 10 years) we’ll all have a good laugh” view. We can (and should) take comfort knowing that there is a plan and that we are all part of it.

But we should also recognize that feeling OK about things in each and every moment is not a guarantee. It may not even be something we should expect, especially if we want to live creative and energetic lives where we pursue dreams and push limits. If we want that, we should probably figure that this “not-OK” feeling is going to part of our day.

The other point that we can’t overlook – with regard to both our collective Jewish experience and with our individual creative ones – is that we aren’t alone. When we create, we are offering up the service of our heart to those around us and to God. It becomes part of the community. If our community really is OUR community then we and our creations will be accepted and honored and supported for what they are.

As Michael Walzer states in “Exodus and Revolution”,

“Standing on the parted shores of history
We still believe what we were taught
Before ever we stood at Sinai’s foot;
That wherever we go, it is eternally Egypt
That there is a better place, a promised land;
That the winding way to that promise
Passes through the wilderness.
That there is no way to get from here to there
Except by joining hands, marching together.”

This week’s d’var was written by Leon Adato from EdibleTorah.com

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Wait…Azazel? Who is this guy?

Azazel can be a who, but it can also be a what. Ask Chabad and they will tell you that Azazel is the cliff that the goat was pushed off. That makes sense, as Azaz is rough or strong, and El is the root of Elohim. But Azazel can also be the name of a shadowy supernatural demon related to warfare. Perhaps it’s both, or a little more of one component or the other, depending on who you are and what time in history it is.

There’s no denying anymore that the religion practiced by the ancient Israelities was bordering on paganism. While I love the modern cultural midrash that the people of the past were closer to “Bible Times” and therefore closer to the true teachings of the Jewish faith, science is teaching us that truly, the ancient Hebrews weren’t really better Jews than we are today. Their idols were clay statues. Our idols are TV stars and fast food restaurants. As the old joke goes, “same stuff, different day.”

I don’t think Judaism really exists as an ongoing practice that we need to adhere to. Judaism, like many other -isms, can be idolatrous. Really, the Torah doesn’t teach us how to be religious. I think instead it teaches us, in a very long winded way, that we are in a covenant. Strip everything away and you’ll find only one sentence that remains true through all the ups and downs of the Torah: I am the Lord your G-d.

I am the Lord your G-d inspired the Temple and the sacrifice. When the Temple was gone, it inspired the shul and the rabbis of the Diaspora. After the Holocaust, it inspired social justice and political action. And in today’s global world, it inspires those of us who are taking the message of HaShem “to the streets” (or should I say, Facebook) to shout out loud that G-d in Heaven is G-d alone and there is no other.

So what is more important to you, G-d or Judaism?

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This week’s Torah portion, Metzorah, arrives amidst a number of Torah portions that are quite often difficult to reconcile with modern thinking.

In last week’s portion we learned about the signs of the metzora, a condition that is the result, the Torah tells us, of a spiritual malady which puts the person in a state of ritual impurity.

This week we hear how the person who is recovered from the tzaraath is cleansed by the Kohen, the priest, with an elaborate ritual involving two birds, some spring water in an earthen vessel, cedar, a red thread, and some hyssop.

When a person is declared a metzora, they are forced out of the community. They are shunned and tear their clothes like those who are in mourning. They have to call out “Impure! Impure!” to warn others to keep their distance.

We also learn this week that the affliction that can cause a person to manifest signs of metzora can also afflict a person’s clothes and even their home! This is very interesting.

And this is the message I was able to take from the portion this week:

We are told by the Sages in the Talmud that there may be many reasons for a person developing the signs of the metzora and the tzaraath is a punishment for having an evil tongue, for lashon hara, for speaking behind another’s back.

Now, whether this disease or whatever it was is a literal punishment for someone speaking behind someone else’s back is not for me to say. The Torah says what the Torah says.

However, the truth of the matter as it appears to me is that there is a strong and obvious correlation between what happens when a person engages in lashon hara and when a person is declared a metzora.

Using wrong speech, spreading gossip and being dishonest has consequences. Think about how this can be true. When (and I say when because I do it too, NO one is perfect!) I engage in lashon hara, I am doing something socially damaging. I disrupt relationships and build walls between people. It can affect my relationships, even those in my own home.

By engaging in lashon hara I can endanger my livelihood, losing my friends, and maybe even my job. What I am getting at is that a person who compulsively engages in lashon hara, well, their worldview seems to look a lot like someone who has been declared a metzora: all alone, no job, no friends, destitute.

Our actions, and even our speech have effects that we can’t comprehend. It is well within the realm of possibility to lose one’s livelihood over misspoken remarks. I ask you to be aware of those times we speak out of turn, and to remember the power that our words have, both over the lives of others, and the power that they have over our own lives, and the role of the Kohen, the role of our ability to bring healing and forgiveness and inclusion.

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Icky skin diseases consume most of our attention in this week’s Torah portion, but the cause and effect probably aren’t what you think.

Our parsha goes into great detail about a handful of different skin afflictions, collectively called “tzaraat,” all subject to inspection by the priests. (The theme is expanded in next week’s parsha to include similar afflictions in clothing and houses.) But while tzaraat is usually defined as “leprosy,” the details aren’t hygenic – in fact, the main consequence of tzaraat is “tumah,” being unable to bring sacrifices to the Mishkan — and this only when the tzaraat is in a state of flux (no pun intended). If you’re completely covered in it, the priest judges you “tahor” (pure/clean/) and that’s that, at least until the tzaraat begins to recede.

(When I teach this to 12-year-olds, I describe tzaraat as “spiritual cooties.” My teacher Rabbi Jack Gabriel tells me that expresses it nicely.)

Homiletically, our rabbis and sage have interpreted tzaraat as the consequence of lashon hara – otherly known as snark, gossip, trash talk – in that it makes us unfit to draw close to G?d. In light of the beginning of Genesis, when G?d created everything out of words, we see the importance our tradition places on speech (not to mention writing!).

These days, what with texting and pop-ups and the interwebs, words are a cheap commodity. It’s not always easy to see their sacredness; certainly not in the way of our Torah ancestors, for whom “closeness to God” was a spatial, rather than spiritual, concern. When words lose their sacredness, however, so do we. Snark is easy when sarcasm and creative character assassination are the coin of the media realm. But Jews don’t do things the easy way — we do them the meaningful way. For example: PunkTorah” can be re-rendered into funky Yiddish as “punkt orah” – a point of light. So let light flow from our mouths, and kindness from our words; and may these small actions help bring our banged-up world into holy and peaceful shalom.

Neal Ross Attinson teaches b’nei mitzvah students in Sonoma, California (AKA “Anatevka-among-the-vines”) and blogs at http://metaphorager.net. He feels uncomfortable without a pad and pencil.

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A lot happens in this week’s Torah portion, Shemini, and there is a lot to try to understand. According to my understanding, the ONE thing that is easy to learn about the Torah is that you will always learn something new! No matter how many times you read the Torah you will always come across something new, something that you didn’t notice before, and this one little thing can change the focus of the whole portion for you. And just like life, it is often the smallest things that can make the biggest impression.

In Shemini we see Aaron and his sons officially take over as Kohanim, as priests. A fire bursts forth from G-d and consumes the offerings on the Altar, and the Shekhinah comes to dwell in the Sanctuary.

Now coming into this portion, I thought the big story was what happens next: Aaron’s sons Nadav and Avihu offer a “strange fire” and they die before G-d. They die. This is a big deal! The eldest sones of the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest, are consumed by Hashem at the time of their inauguration. There is much debate as to what actually happened, if they died because they offered an unauthorized sacrifice, or to put a positive spin on it, some interpretations are that they were so holy that G-d just snapped them up right there as a gift. Really, we don’t know why. Sometimes we don’t have a clear answer as to why things happen,. The Torah, like life, is sometimes mysterious.

So then we get to the laws of kashrus, the kosher laws. Surely, if the story of Nadav and Avihu doesn’t grab me, the laws telling us what we can and can’t eat will make a big impression. And it does, to a point. I mean, we learn in this portion about how even what we eat can be used to serve G-d, to create holiness that can sanctify our lives.

But the whole time I read this portion I kept thinking about what happens right at the beginning. Moses and Aaron are standing at the Altar, and Moses has to tell Aaron, “Come near to the Altar…”.

“Come near.”

You see, Aaron was afraid to come near to Hashem. He still felt guilty for his part in the debacle of the golden calf. He didn’t feel worthy enough to serves as the High Priest; he knew his weaknesses and recognized where he had gone wrong and felt ashamed of his mistake.

And it’s at this point Moses tells Aaron the thing that, for me, became the new focus of the portion.

“It is precisely because you possess the attribute of shame that you have been chosen” (Degel Machneh Efraim). I had never noticed this commentary before, but it makes sense to me. I can feel that shame, that sense of not measuring up to the task G-d has put before me. It is only when we know, deeply, in the root of our being, when we have done wrong, that we can truly move beyond it. This is Aaron being forgiven, and learning how to grow.  And this is what G-d wants, for us to be abel to forgive ourselves and to move forward.

How often do we feel confronted with something that we don’t think we are up to? And how often are our skills, which are not recognized by ourselves, pointed out by our brothers and sisters? Sometimes it takes another who is close to us to point out what we are truly capable of, in spite of what we may have done in the past.

I invite you to be a Moses for your brothers and sisters. Lift them up and point out to them the areas in which they are strong. They might be int he midst of a struggle you are not aware of.

On the flip side, I also invite you to be like Aaron. Listen to those who care about you, and trust that they are right when they tell you that with G-d’s help, you are strong enough for the tasks you are faced with, and learn how to grow, and move forward.

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In this week’s Torah portion, Tzav, we learn all about the duties and right of the Kohanim, the priests, who offer the sacrifices in the Sanctuary. We hear about how the fire must be kept burning all the time, the clothes that the priests must wear, and details on the portions of the offerings that that are given to the Kohanim to eat.

Interesting…

We are told that certain potions of only particular offerings are given to the Kohanim, such as portions of the Sin and Guilt offerings, but in the case of the Peace offering, the bringer also eats a portion, as well as the Kohanim. I am struck by this situation.

Think about this. Hashem has those who do some of the highest work, the most difficult and messy jobs, eat of the offerings that others bring. Can you imagine waiting for someone to bring a sacrifice for you to be able to eat?

But here’s the flip side to that, even in our mistakes, or more clearly especially in our mistakes, G-d gives us the opportunity to do good. In the Peace offering, we can eat of it ourselves, but when we make mistakes part of the repairing that happens is us providing for others. So even when we miss the mark, Hashem is able to transform that into a blessing, into something that helps the community.

Let us take a moment and consider where where we may have missed the mark. What have we done, not in the past year, not in the past month, not even in the past week, but today! Where have we missed the mark today? Were we angry with a loved one? Did we curse at another driver on the road? Did we ignore the needs of those suffering around us? Did we act in frustration or deceit?

Think about these things and realize that in our mistakes is the power to repair. Through these mistakes lie the power to not only repair what we have broken, but to help repair others as well.

Hashem has given us a gift, not of being able to miss the mark, but of being able to realize where we have missed, step back up to the line, and aim again. And in this time, I pray we all hit the bullseye.

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I am staring at a war photo. Yet, there is no combat in this picture. Instead, it was taken in a studio before the wedding of Marine Sgt. Ty Ziegel and his fiancée Renee Kline on October 7th, 2006. In many ways, it is a typical wedding photo. The young bride, wearing a white wedding gown with red trim, holds a bouquet of roses while her groom, dressed in Marine blues, leans casually beside her. It should be the perfect, romanticized image of young love in a time of war.
But, it isn’t.

It takes only a few seconds to realize that Sgt. Ziegel is horribly mutilated beyond recognition. A victim of a suicide car bomb in 2004 in Iraq, he no longer has ears, or a nose, and his skin is a mismatch quilt of grafts and implants.

He is unrecognizable.

This week, my fiancé finished his tour of duty in Iraq. After fifteen months of service as a soldier in the United States Army, he’s coming home. I can’t help but compare myself to this image – the long nights of waiting and wondering are over, and my husband will soon arrive in Israel relatively unscathed.

Yet, I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness in our blessing. For every soldier who comes home to hugs and banners, one comes home in a flag draped coffin escorted by guards. For every soldier who returns to his family whole, one returns broken – wounded by physical scars that will never heal, or the psychological traumas of battle that can’t be seen. And, I think about all of them– all the soldiers, all the wives, all the husbands, all the parents, and all the children. And, I know, they must ask themselves – was the sacrifice worth it?

This week’s Torah portion, the very beginning of Sefer Va-Yikra, the book of Leviticus, deals with the sacrificial offerings made in the Mishkan. The parashah outlines each different type of sacrifice, who brings it, and how it is carried out. And, there’s been plenty written on the “meaning of sacrifice” in Vayikra. After all, our commentators tell us that the root for sacrifice, kaf/resh/bet, also means to draw near. And so, they tell us, inherent in all sacrifice is the unconscious desire to draw nearer to God.

But, I reject this notion.

I reject the idea that there is a simple, sacred recipe to forfeit and faith. And, I refuse to tell you that sacrifice has meaning. I refuse to, and I can’t.

Because today – I am an Army Wife whose husband is coming home.
Perhaps then, the only lesson I can take from Vayikra, is this; that when the community of Israel comes together to sacrifice – they come together as a whole. They come together in support of each other’s offerings.

We cannot understand war, without understanding its result. We cannot talk about politics without remembering the 6,386 men and women to date who have given their lives to Operation Enduring Freedom in Iraq and Afghanistan. We cannot think about tzedakah and social justice and social action without remembering that in our current war, nearly 96 percent of the wounded survive, returning home with lifelong wounds and scars. The result of war, its effect on our soldiers and their families, is something we as a people, and a nation, must face.

The Talmud states that in the age of the Messiah, when there is no more sin and no more war, the only class of offering that will be brought to the Temple will be the Peace Offering. And the message in this is clear; God does not demand sacrifice. God demands peace. God demands that we work towards fulfilling his vision of Tikun Olam, perfecting the world, in chesed and righteousness and love.

Let us not be doomed to repeat the mistakes of our past. Let us not be blind to the sacrifices of those in our midst. Let us not be silent, but demand in righteous anger a response equivalent to the task. So, that there will be no more wars, no more casualties, and no more sacrifices.

Shabbat Shalom.

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Here’s where we see two things that are pretty special.

First, Moses gets a special honor. Moshe hadn’t been involved with the actual construction of the Tabernacle. While he had relayed instructions to Bezalel, the “General Contractor” appointed by G-d, Moses didn’t actually get a chance to physically get in there and get his hands dirty like all of the other Israelites. Knowing this, Hashem gives Moses a special opportunity. According to Rashi, the workmen brought the pieces to Moses.

When Moses saw how heavy all the pieces were, he exclaimed, “How am I going to lift his whole thing up?”

G-d told him, “Don’t worry! You just do your best, I will do the rest.”

So Moses moved to lift the Tabernacle, and the it raised up by itself!

What does this mean? Hashem is telling us that when there is work to be done in G-d’s honor, what really matters is that we try. As long as we make an attempt, we win. Especially when it comes to creating a holy space for G-d to dwell, there is no failing in the service of Hashem.

Secondly, Pekudei speaks about the anointing and blessing of Aaron and his sons as priests. The Torah says, “and so shall it be that their anointment shall be for them for eternal priesthood for their generations” (Shemos/Exodus 40:15). Haamek Dvar (a commentary on the Torah by Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin of Voloshin), tells us that before this time the blessing given to the priests had only been for them, and was not passed on to their children, but now the blessings extends to them and the generations that follow.

Inherited holiness? What does that even mean?

I understand this to mean that the capacity for holiness is inherent in all creation. We all have the potential to be holy and create holiness in others. What gets passed on is the key to unlock this potential. Jewish tradition is one that passes on the secrets of unlocking this holiness, so we have an obligation to those around us and the generations that follow to be an example of that holiness, and show the world that we all have the capacity to be holy, and we all hold the key. The real secret is that we don’t have the key for our own potential! Our key can only unlock the heart of another! Just as the Israelites couldn’t build the Tabernacle one by one, they had to help each other, so do we have to help each other realize their potential for holiness. It is only in helping others that we can truly help ourselves.

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But Vayakhel, is actually a parshat that my experience in Kohenet has helped me to find great depth in, but we’ll get to that part in a second.  In studying Vayakhel to prepare to write this drash, I found something new.  It may have been obvious to others but it was a new treasure for me.  The passage starts out with a reminder of the prohibition against working on the Sabbath.  The first time through this time, I glossed over that, but about half way through the passage I thought, ” hold on a minute!”

The majority of this passage is about the tribe’s excitement in the building of the tabernacle.  Who wouldn’t be excited?  Just think about how great it is just to build a community Sukkah.  Now imagine you’ve just escaped slavery and persecution — oh and the G!d(dess) who rescued you has said to help build the sanctuary!  AWESOME!

You would might get so excited that you think, “this isn’t work!”  That reiteration that we aren’t to work on the Sabbath was a reminder to the Israelites that even building the Mishkan counted as work.  For me it was a moment to rethink some choices I’ve been making about things I do and do not do on the Sabbath. I look at halakah as a reference point, not law, so halakah offers me a perspective what I should and should’t do, but then it’s up to me to do soul searching and set my direction.  This passage made me rethink things I had classified as “avodah,” or work of my heart, which I didn’t consider as “work.”  If the Israelites were supposed to cease work on the Mishkan on the Sabbath, then maybe I needed to refocus on the Sabbath being a liminal-space day of just being.  Especially in this day and age when so many of us feel that we don’t have enough hours in day to begin with, the Sabbath and the cessation from work is even more precious.

But how do I do this? I guess the answer is, “just stop.”   But is the kind of thing tzitzit and tefillin were supposed to help us with: And you shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be for frontlets between your eyes.” Pretty much every Jew knows the words to the “v’ahavta,” which is really a part of the Shema prayer.  It was the first Hebrew prayer I remember learning to chant in Hebrew School. Fewer may be familiar with the “vayomer” section that includes this phrase: “And they shall be tzitzit for you, and when you look at them you will remember all of the Lord’s commandments and do them and not follow after your heart and after your eyes which lead you astray.” We tie these words around our hands and make signs between our eyes to keep us from just following our hearts or eyes. They help us from making bad choices in moments of spiritual weakness.

I have a brass cuff bracelet I wear every day inspired by this idea.  The choice of material was inspired by another section of Vayakhel, one that we studied in the Kohenet program.  Exodus 38:8 is one of those lines that you’d think there would be a TON of commentary about, but there doesn’t seem to be.  We studied it in Kohenet because part of what we do in the training is dive into the overlooked and buried parts of the women’s stories.  The Tzovah, the priestess path of Shekhinah of Kohenet spiritual framework appears in Exodus 38:8.  Generally, Tzovot, plural for Tzovah, has been translated as “working women” or “serving women.” Much of the traditional commentary that does exists seems to want to explain these women’s appearance away.

38:8. Mirrors of the serving women that did service at the door of the tent of meeting (JPS, 1917)

Modern translations and commentaries seem to acknowledge that these women, who gave their brass or copper mirrors to the cause of the Mishkan, probably had some ritual function.  In an incredibly thought-provoking book by Christian theologian Wilda Gafney, it is proposed that they were a core of women whose job it was to guard the entry to the Mishkan.  She also posits that the mirrors they sacrificed for the Mishkah were their signaling tools.  Wow, did that put this offering in a whole new perspective.   It even made me alter a line of a prayer in the Kohenet prayerbook, which is a regular part of my morning prayers to say, “I call to mind the Tzovah, at the threshold’s door — guarding the holy of holies forevermore.

More important to me though, than this line of a prayer, is my bracelet.  My brass cuff, which I bought for $5 at a festival, is a daily reminder of who I am, a Kohenet. Regardless of the situation I am in, when I see the cuff I think of the Tzovah and remember that one of my jobs in this world is to guard the thresholds of the sacred, and welcome people as the come, and help them as they exit.  Now, because of Vayakhel, I am exploring having special one made for Shabbat. So no matter else is going on in my life, I will have special reminder that the Sabbath is for ceasing.  It is a liminal time, where we are to just “be.”  What an incredible gift and challenge all at once.

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By Michele Paiva

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In the 28 years that I have lived on this planet, I have not seen anything as ridiculous as grown men and women wearing footie pajamas. Even worse are the alluring footie pajamas that are supposed to take the reminder of one’s childhood and put it into a romantic context. See the photo below:

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(Subscribe to R. Michael’s weekly D’var Torah at OneShul’s IndieYeshiva by clicking here)

In this week’s Torah portion, Hashem tells us all about the construction of the Sanctuary, how big each piece of acacia wood needs to be, what kind of cloth to make the tents and curtains out of, even how many boards to use when making the Sanctuary walls! (It’s 48, by the way.)

What we are seeing this week is G-d specifically communicating how to make a space in which to dwell, how to create a holy place to house G-d’s presence among us.

There are a few other things that stand out this week as well.

The people of Israel are called to bring offerings to help build the Sanctuary. Notice though, that they aren’t commanded to bring offerings, but Hashem says “from every person whose heart inspires him to generosity”. We are shown that the only way we can build a space for G-d to dwell among us is if we give freely and generously to make this space complete. It has to happen through our free will. G-d doesn’t just magically appear in our lives, we have to give to make it happen. And not only give, but work! Throughout the portion G-d tells us over and over, very specifically and repeating instructions many times, exactly how to build what is needed for Hashem’s presence to be amidst us. This tells us that not only to we have to give, but we have to work, and work hard. Anything that is worth doing is worth doing right. And G-d tells us so. Does Hashem really need a tent made of goat skins or gold covered acacia wood poles? Probably not. But we are called to give generously of our time, our sweat, and our prized possessions, in order to create a space of holiness in the world.

Another point is the constant demonstration that happens through the textile arts. Hashem says to make numerous multicolored curtains, and to connect them with each other with loops and clasps, so that, as the Torah says, “the Mishkan will be one”. Only through the presence of Hashem can the many become one, echad. This miracle of unity is only available through the power of Hashem’s presence.

Most strikingly, however, is the fact that this sanctuary that is being built is portable. The Israelites were to keep G-d’s presence with them wherever they went. G-d travels with us. G-d has brought us out of Mitzrayim, the narrow places, and reminds us that as long as we create that space, G-d will be with us.

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(Subscribe to R. Michael’s weekly D’var Torah at OneShul’s IndieYeshiva by clicking here)

Parshah Mishpatim is focused on, as the name implies, laws, mishpatim being the second word of the portion. In mishpatim Hashem jumps from giving us the Ten Commandments, the basis for our law, and begins to gives us the laws regarding, among many others things, slavery, selling your daughter before puberty, and what happens if you have an ox that destroys your neighbors home.

What does this have to do with us today? More than you may think!

First of all, the question needs to be asked, why, after setting down the ten commandments, the ten mitzvot that are the basis for our relationship with G-d and man, does Hashem run full speed into talking about some crazy slavery laws? For a few reasons.

1. We are watching as G-d takes a bad situation and makes it more fair and compassionate.

Slavery was a big reality at the time, no matter what reservations and objections we have today. G-d was taking what was a terrible practice and trying to humanize it.

Think about this, the Israelites were just freed from slavery in Egypt. G-d is saying, “Remember the hard lives you just had? Well guess what! You can’t do that to anyone else now either!” G-d is grabbing the reigns, so to speak, and gradually re-directing the course of reality. The argument goes that if G-d had come and said “No more slavery!” it would be like trying to teach a caveman to dial a cellphone. It is so outside their realm of understanding that they weren’t ready for it yet. In fact, at the time, being a “bondsman” was a way to sort of “fix your credit”. An Israelite was supposed to choose another Israelite over a slave of another nation, even if they “cost” more, to make sure that one tribesman helped another. And after six years, or the Jubiliee year, they were to be released from their bond. At least there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

2. G-d wants to show us that there is no “realm of religion” in the Creator’s eyes.

Unlike a Western point of view where religion deals solely with spirituality and ritual, or a separation of the Israelite “temple” and civil court, to be a true mensch (a good person) and a chassid (a pious person), you need to be “scrupulous in matters of civil and tort law”. Judaism knows no separation between the court and the Temple.

Ramban tells us that the civil law is an extension of the tenth commandment, forbidding covetousness. So in order to know what not to covet, we have to know the rights and property of others.

3. G-d doesn’t want us to struggle alone.

Towards the end of the portion we find the mention of lending money to our fellows without interest. In fact, the phrasing is “When you lend money”, not “if”. Lending to the poor is not an option, it is obligatory! The commentary states that not only are we to lend money with no expectation of invested return, but by lending, the Torah means attachment, to attach ourselves to their plight. They are not alone when they struggle, and that is what is most important, not letting others struggle alone.

Ultimately we see that in our lives as Jews, there is no realm too large or small where G-d cannot fit. Even in dealing with matters of seemingly unspiritual civil law, we find G-d. I invite you to take the opportunity to look for G-d. Look for G-d somewhere you may not have looked before. You might be surprised where G-d can be found.

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Fast forward to Martin Luther King. He carried the bones of his ancestry, while others carried cars and homes, jewelry and focused on oppression of others. MLK could have ignored it all and done his thing in his hometown.

He could have not had as much stress in his life, but he chose a different route.  A much harder road to travel. He put himself at risk and was armed more with his beliefs rather than weapons or grandiose items.

Now, fast forward to you right now. What do you carry with you in your heart and spirit? What helps you understand what to keep with you and what to throw out? The Ten Commandments.

Sometimes we are forced to take the long route, and it doesn’t mean it is wrong or bad for us, sometimes we need to circle the goal to see what the purpose really is. We are a lot like Moses and Martin Luther King; both men didn’t want to carry the “baggage” per se, but did so because it was a part of them, and a part of something they valued.

If you look at the ten commandments, where Moses is trying to get people to listen, he is setting up ethical laws… and so was Martin Luther King. If you really look at the bigger picture, the commandments, when followed by differing groups of people, serve as an alliance of sort. They are laws but laws that bring people together rather than tear them apart. In what ways do the ethics of the Ten Commandments bring you together with others or, tear you from others? Have you had peers or friendships that have been weighted by the knowledge that something in a commandment was being attacked, even if at the time you didn’t think of the commandments but instead, the behaviors? Being stolen from, lied to or someone being disrespectful to your parents or to you as a parent could be just some of the reasons you felt a friendship was being tested.

In whole, the ten commandments are often intertwined with our spirits even when we don’t see them; bringing back last week with the bones carried, and MLK with his ancestry and desires; we see that there are things we carry with us that are a part of us. The Ten Commandments are most certainly with us; just recognizing them instead of being oblivious to them, is the key.

This week’s d’var is written by Michele Paiva, wellness expert, publisher, syndicated radio host and PunkTorah volunteer.

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I have claimed in the past that when G-d gave the Jews in the exodus manna—a food that is widely accepted as vegetarian—He had “a chance to start over” with vegetarianism and He again “intended humans to be vegetarian.” This argument suggested that manna was the Jews’ lone source of food in the desert prior to the flesh mentioned in Number 11:31-34. I had based my argument on that of Richard Schwartz in Judaism and Vegetarianism, who said that “after the Israelites left Egypt, G-d tries to establish another non-meat diet: manna.” In a “Jews and Food” class this past fall, I reviewed the two chapters in the Torah in which manna was mentioned—Exodus 16 and Numbers 11—and I questioned whether manna was eaten as an all-vegetarian diet.

Manna was mentioned as a prominent food in those two chapters, but quail was also discussed. In Exodus 16:12, G-d told the Israelites, “By the evening you shall eat flesh, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread ….” The following verse explained, “In the evening quail appeared and covered the camp.” Then in Numbers 11:4, some of the wandering Jews “felt a gluttonous craving” and said, “If only we had meat to eat!” In Numbers 11:33-34, after they received quail, they were punished: “The meat was still between their teeth, nor yet chewed, when the anger of the Lord blazed forth against the people and the Lord struck the people with a very severe plague. … [T]he people who had the craving were buried there.” The role of quail in Numbers 11 seemed to support the argument that G-d preferred vegetarianism, but the mention of quail in Exodus 16:12-13 appeared to suggest otherwise.

When I e-mailed Schwartz to ask for clarification, he replied, “The fact that the eating of quail is not mentioned in Numbers, before the Israelites cried out for flesh, and that Exodus 16:35 states that the children of Israel ate manna for 40 years, with no mention of eating quail for these 40 years, leads me to think that the initial eating of quail [in Exodus 16:12-13] was a singular event before the Israelites started eating the manna.” Schwartz also checked with a couple of rabbis, but their responses—which I do not have permission to quote from—offered varied, inconclusive reflections on the apparent contradiction.

I followed the paper trail leading from the citation Schwartz used in Judaism and Vegetarianism. Schwartz attributed his claim to “Rabbi Isaac Arama (1420-1494), author of Akedat Yitzchak” and included a footnote with three citations. First, I was unable to find an English-language copy of Rabbi Isaak Hebenstreit’s Kivrot Hata’avah. Second, a 1967 article supported Schwartz’s argument by calling the diet of the exodus a “second attempt to introduce a vegetarian diet.” However, this superficial overview—written by a reverend in a British publication called The Jewish Vegetarian—did not seem to bear much authority. Third, in Animal Life in Jewish Tradition, author Elijah Schochet noted, “Arama theorizes that G-d had hoped the Israelites, once freed from Egyptian bondage, would willingly subsist on a diet of vegetation.” Although I did not have too much information to go by yet, Schochet at least provided a direct citation to what Arama had written. When I tracked down the appropriate passage in Arama’s Akedat Yitzchak, I had my first a-ha moment:

“The fact that in answer to the Jewish people’s request G-d did provide meat, but in a manner much less gracious than the way in which the Manna was supplied, leads one to believe that the supply of quail was a one time occurrence. . . .

“[M]eat had not been part of their diet all along. Further proof that meat was an exceptional provision, lies in the fact that it came unaccompanied by such ordinances as the manner in which it had to be slaughtered, specific quantities per person provided, how long it could be preserved, etc., all details that were spelled out about the Manna.”

I looked into the perspective of anthropologist Jean Soler, whose name had come up in another class session. Soler did not conclude that there had been an “attempt to impose a vegetarian regime on the Hebrews,” but he pointed to the diet of the exodus as “[a trace] of such an attempt or, at any rate, of such an ideal.” Soler also said that manna was “the only daily nourishment of the Hebrews during the exodus” and added that the Hebrews demanded meat twice.

I also checked in with Rabbi David Kraemer, author of Jewish Eating and Identity Through the Ages. Although Kraemer stated that he had “no opinion on how these stories fit together,” he said that both Rashi and Nachmanides interpreted Numbers 11:4 to mean that “meat was available all along.” Nachmanides stated quite clearly that “there was not enough meat for the whole people to have every day, although they did eat it many times, for some of them had herds, but [only] the important people ate it [every day], as happens in camps and places where prices are high.” While I cannot say with absolute certainty that Rashi’s commentary takes as strong a position, I respect Kraemer’s affirmation that Rashi held the same view:

“Did they then, not have flesh?
Was it not already stated (Ex. 12.38),
“And also a mixed multitude went with them;
and flocks, and herds,” etc.?

“If you say, “They had eaten them,”
is it not stated, when they entered into the Land (Num 32.1),
“Now the children of Reuben had a very great multitude of cattle,” etc.?
However, they (only) sought some pretext (for grumbling).”

As with so many other matters in Judaism, there is no unanimity on whether manna was part of an all-vegetarian diet. I will no longer look to claim that it was.

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For all of us, this is a time where we can also think about freeing ourselves; from old and toxic habits, relationships that are negative, and self-destruction. We often as a society, focus so much on what others do to us or how we react to others, we fail to see how we treat ourselves and our responses to self-inflicted wounds.

How can Parashat Bo teach us to free ourselves?

Do we need to be as Moses and point our fingers at the moon and declare a new start, regardless of where the moon sits within the sky? Probably. Even the most free-spirited of us, is an animal of structure; we are creatures of habit. We tend to only embrace change when it is forced or, when it seems easily attainable. However, the goals can be to free ourselves: to understand that though structure guides us, be it tradition or the moon in the sky, we are in fact, free.

We need to understand that sometimes things can be painful.

It wasn’t easy for Jews to go from slaves to a nation; so we shouldn’t assume that change of any kind is going to be easy for us either – though, it will be well worth the dedication to the cause.

We had a new relationship with G_d, and now, when we make changes to our spirit, body and mind; we are essentially giving thanks and honoring that very relationship that others strived for and gained, not only for themselves but for us. When you make positive changes for yourself, you are also helping others- be it heirs, peers or society.

Freedom and relationships… that’s how I see Parashat Bo…

This week’s d’var was written by Michele Paiva, PunkTorah community member and author.

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFzaU1CeNRI

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3P9Bu-tkyk

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When I received the email from Patrick inviting folks to participate in reading a Torah portion my initial reaction was that of hesitant excitement. I got to thinking about how great this would be, giving me the opportunity to publically announce my faith in the G-D of Israel-of my “newly discovered” ancestors.

Parashat Vayechi turned out be extremely personal showing me how Hashem has supreme insight into all. Through Torah, He reveals how to acquire a better understanding of our father. But the miraculous part comes when we gain a relevancy for ourselves and our lives by way of Torah. Here is what I learned about me and my present situation.

Picture it… Egypt on a cool balmy evening in a comfortable Kemetic dwelling on a fertile piece of desert plain lives Jacob aka Israel, the beloved patriarch to the Hebrew people. Parashat Vayechi lets us know Jacob has come to the end of his life, requesting the audience of his sons. He is about to reveal his most important decrees to his heirs that will affect the Jewish people down thru the ages…including you and me. Joseph, the youngest son of Jacob, visits with his father during which Jacob tells him,” upon my death I want you to bury me in Canaan, the land of my forefathers”. Joseph wanted to please his father, but knew it wouldn’t be easy since Jacob was so well liked and respected by the Egyptians they would surely want him to be buried among them.

Jacob was so adamant about it that he insisted Joseph hold him under his thigh helping him to sit upright, inferring the closeness between father and son, causing him to swear to it…Joseph at that point had no other choice (if you want your kid to do what you ask, guilt them thru love to do it, works every time).

By sun down, Joseph was informed by a servant that his dad had taken a turn for the worse and was requesting to see his grandsons. Joseph goes out to collect kids and his brothers to gather around their father Jacobs’s bed side. Ephraim and Manasseh arrived first. We can be sure that each one of Jacob’s sons was sure in their heads about what they would individually get; but Jacob had other plans because G-D did. Jacob was filled with the purpose that G-D had infused in him and he wasted no time in portioning out his decrees. Jacob reminded his sons of their individual actions, telling them that sometimes we do things that can affect not only the present, but the future generations to come-both for the good and the bad. So in everything we do, we must decide whether we want to be a blessing or a curse. Joseph through his actions in the past caused his descendants to be blessed by Jacob first. G-D recalled the affliction of Joseph when he was sold by his jealous brothers into slavery and despite the hardships he went through, Joseph saved his family from starvation, impending death and forgave them all for their treachery. Hashem wielded his justice (not vengeance) against Josephs brothers through their inheritance because that was the only way they would learn and accept responsibility for their cruelty and angst against Joseph and save the Jewish progeny.

Eventually we, the descendants of Israel’s sons, were scattered to the world. But through the promises and the grace of Hashem our folks are gathering back to Israel once again. An Ashkenazi cousin contacted me on Facebook (we found one another through
DNA testing) sharing with me some family history. He is planning to make Aliyah to Israel. Once it’s confirmed, guess who is going on holiday in Israel!?

Parashat Vayechi speaks to me about reconciliation and forgiveness, helping us to realize that everything we do is seen by G-D , He never forgets and because He is not on our time frame He will always catch up. Lucky for me, I’m found.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35HY4Mt_5C0

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But the real lesson in this week’s Torah portion is that G-d can (and does) talk to non-Jews. But Pharaoh didn’t know what his dreams meant. It took Joseph’s interpretative skills to put two and two (or in this case, seven, seven, seven and seven) together to mean anything.

G-d, it seems, is Universal: talking to everyone, actively involved in humanity’s shared life on Earth. But the Jewish people have a special place, taking the visions that G-d puts into humanity, and interpreting them, guiding them, and bringing them to life.

So on this cold (for us) Hanukkah night, let the warmth of the menorah and G-d’s splendor shine on you and the world.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=liqozKEnFz8

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The miracle of Hanukkah, I think, is the fact that we turned a civil war between fundamentalists and moderates into a celebration of potatoes and jelly doughnuts. Let me explain.

While it is true that the Hanukkah narrative involves the rededication of the Temple ransacked by the Syrians, the actual conflict leading up to the temple desecration was a cultural move away from what at the time would be considered traditional Jewish practice, to a hybrid of Jewish law, in the context of Greek culture. The Hellenistic Jews, it seems, were assimilated Jews who wanted to combine the best-of-both-worlds into one practice. And this really made the orthodox Jews angry. War erupted, with the traditionalist Maccabees winning against the Hellenists. Then comes the oil miracle, and now we play religiously sanctioned gambling with chocolate.

“If the Maccabbes were still around, we’d be dead” said Michael, our Alterna-Rebbe. And I agreed. In 2004, a group of rabbis tried to revive the Sanhedrin in Israel, a move that did absolutely nothing but make Westernized Jewry laugh. But I do wonder, could a time ever come where a court of Jewish law will slaughter anyone that doesn’t fit into the religious mold that the traditionalists set, as we are told to do in Exodus 22:17, Leviticus 20:27, Exodus 22:19, Deuteronomy 13:13-19 and Deuteronomy 13:7-12?

The miracle of Hanukkah, it seems, is that we’ve taken a holiday that, when experienced historically would have been the downfall for many cultural Jews, and turned it into a holiday that celebrates the triumph of the human spirit over oppressive forces. So put that in your jelly doughnut!

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Growing up is a terrible thing, because the nostalgia of your childhood gets replaced by the “enlightenment” of getting older. When you’re young, Christopher Columbus is an amazing adventurer, your parents are the smartest people you know, and G-d is in heaven smiling down on you and making sure you’re OK. Then your teen years happen and you become cynical, giving up on the genocidal Spaniard, you realize your parents are clueless and sure enough, G-d is make believe.

But education doesn’t have to be this way. We don’t need to “grow up” out of everything. There are certain truths to life that transcend the intellectual and should never be taken away from us. Thanksgiving, I believe, is one of them. Yes, native people were massacred. But giving up on turkey and mashed potatoes doesn’t make that go away. Bobby Hill learned that, and I think we should, too.

And how about G-d? Does the fact that no one has recently split the ocean or stopped the sun or made a snake or a donkey talk really going to persuade you to stop believing in the Higher Power? It’s true, and I’ll be the one to say it: we have no historical proof that the Patriarchs and Matriarchs existed, or that Moses and the Exodus were real, or that any of the miracles really happened. But in giving up the fairy tales, are you really going to be ego-centric enough to say that there is no Creator? And even if you struggle with the “facts” of the Bible, will that be enough to keep you from a Shabbat table?

I’m happy with Thanksgiving, even if the Puritans were dubious people and that native people got a raw deal (and frankly, still do). And I’m OK with the fact that the history of the Bible is not terribly accurate. It won’t keep me from celebrating my own humanity, which is what I believe holidays like Thanksgiving and Shabbat have in common.

So enjoy your dressing and candied yams. They aren’t at the expense of native people. And enjoy your G-d, too! Don’t let your intelligence take away from the joy of a good life.

By the way, I lucked out on this whole Thanksgiving thing — my mom’s family intermarried with the Cherokee when they got off the boat from the Old Country. It’s nice to know that your guilt only has to go so far.

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At first glance, Parsha Vayeshev seems like a pretty harsh and destructive time for G-d. Jacob is desperately praying that the generations of family woes will finally be over yet we see intense turmoil with Joseph and his brothers. The brothers eventually rough him up a bit and throw him in a pit. The Torah states that, “And they sat down to eat bread, and they lifted up their eyes and looked, and behold, a company of Yishme’alim came from Gilad with their camels carrying aromatic gum, balm, and ladanum, going to carry it down to Egypt” (Genesis 37:25). This is the caravan the brothers will sell Joseph into slavery. Let’s put this in perspective: your brothers hate you, they just beat you up, threw you into a pit for who knows how long, took your awesome coat, and sold you into slavery. Why do you care that the caravan you’re gonna be stuck on for your not-so-happy ride down to Egypt smells nice?

Simply put, while we’re rejoicing in our happiness or mourning our destruction, G-d is simply creating. All of the good and bad moments of our lives are simply moments in time of G-d constantly creating the world so that we can all reach our potential. We often don’t see the meaning behind our suffering until days, months, years or even generations later. However, G-d will never allow us to suffer an iota more than is necessary. Joseph’s suffering was necessary so that the humiliation would humble him. Also, this event would bring his family to Egypt, where they would escape the famine. Even further than that, it would bring the rest of Israel down to Egypt where they would eventually have to endure the pain of slavery as a nation; the path in which the Nation of Israel is redeemed, given the torah and brought to Eretz Yisroel. However, despite all that, Joseph was spared the discomfort of the normally pungent smells that would accompany a caravan. This was a small reminder from G-d that all was not lost and that Joseph would not have to suffer any more than absolutely necessary, even if just a small discomfort.

Often when we are struggling through a particularly difficult time we don’t even notice the seemingly small discomforts, or lack thereof. Yet, it is in these details that we might recognize G-d’s hints to us that every moment of mourning or rejoicing in our lives is just a fleeing moment of creation leading us to our full potential. This reminds me of one of my favorite King Solomon stories. The king wanted to humble one of his most trusted wise men, Benaiah. He asked Benaiah to find him a magic ring that would make a happy man sad, and a sad man happy. He knew that no such ring existed but wanted to bring a sense of humility to Benaiah since he was known to brag amongst the other advisors. After months of searching with no luck, Benaiah happened upon an old merchant in one of the poorest quarters of Jerusalem. He asked the old man if he knew of such a ring. The man took a ring from his wares and engraved some words. When Benaiah saw the engraving he knew he had found the ring. That night when the king asked him to produce the magic ring, everyone was surprise when Benaiah actually pulled out a ring. King Solmon saw engraved “Gam Ze Ya’avor” – “This too shall pass.” At that moment the king knew that all his wisdom, wealth and power were just fleeting things, and he was saddened by the thought. But our sufferings will pass as well, a thought that should always keep us happy and comforted.

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All real living is meeting.- Martin Buber

In last week’s parsha, Vayeitze Ya’akov left Be’er Sheva in the Holy Land and went north to Haran. The Sfas Emes points out that this symbolizes the soul leaving behind the well (be’er) of Shabbat (sheva) to go into the materiality of the world- from the place of p’nimiyut (internal spirit) to the place of gashmiyut (mundane concern). Now he is returning to the Holy Land and therefore to the place of p’nimiyut, which besides internality can also paradoxically mean the Face (panim). As we shall see Ya’akov will be tested on the way with a meeting with the face of the Other, the face of his brother Esav.

Ya’akov has sent messengers and gifts along before him to his estranged brother and sent his family along ahead of him. He has prepared for possible battle with him and the men that accompany him. Ya’akov will stay alone for the night.

“Vayivater Ya’akov levado- And Ya’akov was left alone (levado)”(Bereishit 32:25). The Midrash says, “Ya’akov was left alone (levado)”- this is like the aloneness of the Holy One who pervades all the universe (Bereishit Rabbah, 77:1)”. How is Ya’akov’s aloneness like the aloneness of Hashem?

The Holy One’s aloneness is described as ein od milvado -there is nothing besides Him alone (Devarim 4:35). On one level Ya’akov is in a place of great aloneness where he must rely on his own resources only (R’ Tzvi Elimelech of Dynov, Igre de-Kala, quoted by Rav Itamar Eldar). This is one way in which his aloneness is like the Holy One’s- it is an aloneness of self-sufficiency.

Further R’ Tzvi Elimelech and others connect this verse to another one from Yeshaya: “And human haughtiness will be humbled and people’s pride be brought low, YHWH alone ( levado) will be exalted on that day (Yashaya 2:17)” Here Ya’akov lets go of pride and self and thus attains to an “aloneness with the alone”. Ya’akov’s aloneness is one where he comes into an unmediated meeting with the Divine presence, as taught by the Shem Mi-Shmuel (see Shem Mi-Shmuel Vayishlach 1878). This last type of aloneness is a segregation- a hitbodedut- even from ideas of self and other, past and future. Ya’akov enters into a deep stillness where he transcends stories about himself and his brother. Ya’akov is alone, but not in the sense of isolation.

We see here that Ya’akov attains an aloneness of self-reliance, humility, divine presence, and seclusion from his usual way of looking at things, even to the extent of transcending ideas of himself and his brother. Lastly in this aloneness his consciousness becomes unrestricted, and it is in this sense that his awareness “pervades all the universe like the Holy One”.

It is from this ultimate place that the Other can be met completely, free from the cage of concepts based on the past. Here transformation of our attitude to the other can really occur, even if we only glimpse this state briefly. Without it, change tends to be more superficial.

V’ya’vak ish imo ad alot hashachar. The next thing that happens is that Ya’akov is met by a “man” (ish)- in my reading, his own personification of the Other, with which he wrestles ad alot hashachar- until the dawn (Bereishit 32:25). Ya’akov’s journey is not complete and he must integrate his experience. Ya’akov wrestles with the man triumphantly and the next day when he meets Esav he is greeted by Esav with a kiss. However first he bows to Esav sheva pa’amim- seven times (Bereishit 33:3). Seven symbolizes completion- Ya’akov bows completely.

Esav embraces Ya’akov and tells him Esav bears him no enmity any longer- a result the Rabbis explicitly connect to Ya’akov’s wrestling the night before with Esav’s guardian angel, or in our reading, with Ya’akov’s projection of Esav as threatening Other. And how telling in this respect is Ya’akov’s reponse to Esav “I have seen your face, which is like seeing the face of God”. Ya’akov’s statement reveals that in his aloneness his vision has been reborn, remade, and now he recognizes that the unmediated face of reality, the unmediated face of his brother Esav, is the face of God.

The meeting of Ya’akov and Esav has been understood as having been potentially messianic. If Esav had been ready for union with Ya’akov, the messianic age would have dawned. But Esav was not ready, and so Ya’akov does not go with him but sends him on ahead, promising to catch up with him in Se’ir. The lesson here is spiritual and ethical.

Ya’akov, after his healing glimpse of Esav beyond objectification, falls again into self protection. He does not go with Esav out of fear. He has not emerged from his wrestling with his personification of the Other completely whole after all- rather he walks with a limp. Jews do not eat the gid hanasheh, the sciatic nerve, of an animal in remembrance of Ya’akov’s injured hip. The mitzvah not to eat the gid hanasheh is a remembrance of the hope of reconciliation between self and other. One day we hope Ya’akov will be completely reconciled to Esav, beyond fear, guilt, and anger, and thus a space will open for Esav to be reconciled to Ya’akov. The pyche will be beyond “what I have done to him or her, what I am doing to him or her, what I might do to him or her” and of course “what he or she has done to me, what he or she are doing to me, what he or she might do to me”. Ya’akov and Esav will embrace each other and travel together without fear. Until then perhaps Ya’akov is right to not travel with Esav- he senses not that Esav is not ready but that he himself is not ready.

By the end of the parsha we read “Ya’akov arrived whole – and he encamped before the city (of Shechem) (Bereishit 33:18).” And Esav? “And Esav took his wives, and his sons, and his daughters, and all the persons of his house, and his cattle, and all his beasts, and all his substance, which he had acquired in the land of Canaan; and went into another country away from his brother Yaakov (Bereishit 36:6).” The parsha then calls him “Esav, who is Edom (Bereishit 36:1).” He is now no longer identified with Avraham and his family; he is from now on identified as Edom. He has left the family and mission of Avraham. Even more ominously, Esav’s son Elifaz takes Timna, sister of a Horite chieftain, as a wife. Their son is Amalek, the archetypal anti-semite, ancestor of Haman of the Purim story (Bereishit 36:12)!

What would have happened if Ya’akov had gone with Esav and positively united their destinies? Yitzhak, certainly, did not desire Esav’s banishment from the family but rather favoured him. Traditional Jewish commentary has argued for Esav’s bad intentions at great length: Esav was feining forgiveness, or his forgiveness was short-lived; Esav did not really kiss Ya’akov- he bit him. Is this protesting too much? Are we straining to cover for our own lack of love?

Chazal have said that reconciliation between Ya’akov and Esav will happen in the messianic future. Whoever is Israel, awake and struggling: let’s not wait for the future with whoever in our life is Esav. By letting go of our pride and our attempts to rely on others, and going into a place of aloneness, segregated even from our concepts of self and other, us and them, we can renew our eyes and see again the face of God in the face of the other. Everytime the face of the Other appears to us- by an act of grace beyond our imagining or conception- then the messianic age may dawn in that moment.

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At the outset of Parashat Vayetzei, Yaakov, weary from traveling, lies down to rest, using a rock as a pillow. Let’s let him sleep for now—he’s tired and has earned his rest—and talk about another Yaakov: Yaakov ben Pesach Kuritzky, otherwise known as Joshua Kuritzky. (Yes, yes, I know: Why isn’t my Hebrew name Yehoshua? Just as valid and strong a biblical namesake, but, alas, not the name my parents chose.)

On the 14th of Elul, 5768, I married my sweetheart, Bayla Rivkah (English name: Beth). We had a traditional Jewish wedding service, which included the Badeken ceremony, in which the groom veils his bride. It is said that this custom originated because of events in this Parasha. Because of Laban’s deception, Yaakov inadvertently married Leah instead of Rachel. (We’ll leave all conniving in-law-related exegesis for a later date.) So now, as part of the Jewish wedding ceremony, the groom is given the opportunity to verify that his bride is indeed the woman he wants to marry. But in an age where we’ve already modified the wedding ceremony to fit modern culture and custom—the modern Jewish wedding ceremony condenses the official engagement and wedding into one ceremony, whereas historically these two separate events occurred months apart—why keep a custom that seems, at least on its surface, to be superfluous? Given all the trappings of a modern wedding, it would be difficult, if not impossible, for a devious father-in-law to swap out daughters without a photographer, videographer, wedding planner, dress fitter, hair and/or makeup stylist, etc. noticing that something isn’t, well, kosher.

If the purpose of the Badeken today is not exclusively a means for bridal inspection, what other purpose does it serve? For me, the Badeken remains the first thing I think about when recalling my wedding day. As is tradition, I fasted the entire day and have little recollection of the Kabbalat Panim (the separate pre-wedding receptions for bride and groom) besides a feeling of lightheadedness, anxiety, and an intense desire to see my best friend, partner, and confidant: my bride. As the singing turned into dancing and I was escorted to the Badeken, all I wanted to do was to see her. We’d been separated for a week, each left to deal with our separate versions of wedding stress and jitters. But this was it! A day months in planning and years in dreaming—it was finally here. In the next room, surrounded by the women in her life, sat my bride upon her bridal throne, waiting for me to be danced in, to see her and to veil her. What I remember most is that before veiling her, time slowed and what takes barely a minute in our wedding video felt almost dreamlike: I stared into Beth’s eyes and knew that I was glimpsing my past, present, and future all at once. I was no longer alone. I had someone to travel through life with. As I veiled her, the “deal” was unspoken: we would walk together—where she would walk, I would walk; where I would walk, she would walk. As we noted under our Chuppah, the letters in the word Elul match a line from the Song of Songs: Ani L’Dodi V’Dodi Li—“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” This line has always defined us as a couple.

What followed, from the Chuppah to the reception, all felt like a confirmation of what happened in the Badeken. We may not have been married until later in the day, but for me, that ritual—the verification not just that this was whom I wanted to marry and spend my life with, but that this was the life I wanted to share—made it final and made it real.

Now let’s return to Yaakov our forefather, who is sleeping fitfully and dreaming the most biblical of dreams. What does he dream? He sees, depending on the translation, a stairway or ladder that reaches to the heavens with angels moving back and forth. Whatever it is, it is a conveyance—a connection to the divine. As a dream it is beautiful—symbolic and spiritual, fraught with meaning. And then, in the dream, Hashems peaks to Yaakov, promising him and his descendants, who will be like the “dust of the earth”, the land on which he lies. Hashem promises to protect Yaakov. Where Yaakov goes, so will Hashem. And Yaakov awakens convinced of the dream’s meaning, recognizing the importance of his journey and what his life will bring. And in a strange, surprisingly confident, voice, Yaakov makes a promise in return: If Hashem watches over and protects Yaakov, then Hashem will be G-d to Yaakov.

What can we make of this dream in light of what comes later in the Parasha? Perhaps we can see Yaakov’s dream as a Badeken in its own right. The veil has been lifted, however briefly, to show Yaakov and, by extension, us, that we are connected not just to each other through our friendships and marriages, but to the divine, each and every day. The twin promises between Yaakov and Hashem are echoed when we marry: We promise to protect each other, support each other, and journey through life together. As Yaakov’s story becomes our story, we see, again and again, our connection to Hashem, who can also be seen as the subject of the Song of Songs. We are Hashem’s and Hashem is ours.

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This week’s Torah portion is Toldot. About a year ago, I was on a meditation retreat led by Rabbis Jeff Roth and Sheila Peltz Weinberg. Sheila gave an amazing drash on Toldot during the retreat, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot ever since. She related the parsha to Jewish contemplative practice, and it felt like she was speaking directly to me about why I practice Jewish meditation and not some other form of spirituality, and I wanted to share it with you.

Judaism, thankfully, has some lasting and beautiful structures: Torah, prayers, holidays, mitzvot, etc. Our task seems to be to take these structures seriously, but lightly. We have so many precedents in our history of going deep inside ourselves (see: Zohar, Hasidut), and also looking outside of ourselves and beyond our structures for insight, perspective, challenges (see: Maimonides, the entire Jewish meditation movement). So, we’re held by these structures, but for sustainability, survival, and in the spirit of learning and growing as individuals and as a people, we have to be open and find what works.

This week, we are reading Toldot. Jacob and Esau are born after fighting each other inside their mother, Rebecca, and Isaac re-digs the ancestral wells in search of water. Sheila’s interpretation of the digging of wells is what I’d like to share.

Isaac is digging the wells of Abraham, finding along the way contention, conflict, and then rehovot, spaciousness. In digging the wells, all of which lead to water, Isaac goes through a lot, eventually getting to a place of non-adversarial flowing waters… The question comes up: “why not skip all of that contention and conflict and just dig new wells?” Sheila’s answer was threefold: “1. There’s water there!, 2. We know where they are!, and 3. They are our wells!”

This is part of our spiritual path. We know there are deep insights within Jewish practice and study, we have the structures at our disposal, and maybe more importantly, it’s ours! When teaching Jewish meditation, I am always asked about what is Jewish about meditation. There are lots of ways to answer this, and I usually simply say that it’s my understanding that if I bring my whole self and my whole heart to my spiritual practice, and I’m Jewish, then my practice is Jewish.

Even when I considered myself Buddhist and wasn’t so interested in being Jewish, I said the shehechianu when I saw the Himalayas for the first time. I realized at some point, along my meditation path, that I speak Buddhist fluently, but when I practice Jewish meditation, it feels like I’m speaking my native tongue. Many people who come to the JMC talk about how they have felt an ache of connection, that they feel at home in a Jewish context, and that they’ve been looking for a way to connect their spiritual seeking and Judaism through meditation. This story of Isaac digging wells resonates with me, because often I find myself in conflict and contention with my Jewish roots and contemporary interpretations and even the idea of God, but this feels like the right path, and this is my well, and I’m thirsty.

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Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. And although I stopped dressing up (and for the most part, going out) on Halloween, I still get a thrill out of carving a pumpkin and laughing at the ridiculous oversexed costumes that are on the market these days.

So what does Halloween have to do with Judaism? Simple: Purim.

Purim and Halloween have more than the obvious dressing-up-and-acting-out shtick in common. The real common denominator of the two holidays is that they came from somewhere else and were turned into something completely different than what they started as.

Halloween find its roots in the Celtic holiday Samhain, remixed with All Souls Day from the Roman Catholic world. Purim, some scholars believe, is actually a Babylonian holiday based around the stories of Ishtar and Marduk. Ishtar became Esther, Marduk became Mordechai and there you have it.

I like how Judaism is able to take what’s outside of itself and bring it in. That’s a good skill to have: it means survival, flexibility, openness. It also means that Judaism can have an impact on broader culture. Jewish people have taken part in the labor movement, feminism, civil and immigrant rights, environmentalism, and many other great movements in this country. Why? Because it’s tikkun olam…it’s part of our culture, whatever that word even means these days. Culture swapping is good, not because it means that we get to have more food filled holidays, but because we, the Jewish people, can export our goodness, our godliness, into the world, and make the world a better place.

So here’s my idea for Jew-ing up Halloween. Before you take your kids Trick or Treating, buy a bag of candy and some costumes and take it down to the local women and children shelter. Give them a little bit of fun. And then go Trick or Treating. It’s a mitzvah, so if you’re the type to worry about chillul HaShem because you are celebrating a goy holiday, at least you’ve canceled your sins out a little bit.

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Kislev 5771 begins at sundown on Sunday, November 7th, 2010 and ends at sundown on Monday, December 6, 2010

Kislev (כִּסְלֵו) is called the month of dreams because nine of the ten dreams explicitly mentioned in the Torah occur in the Torah portions of Kislev (Inner.org), which explains why Kohenet associates Kislev with the Baalot Ov (בַּעֲלַת-אוֹב)– but what does that have to do with Benjamin?   Benjamin is the last son of Jacob and the only full brother of Joseph.  When he was born Rachel named him Ben-Oni (בֶּן-אוֹנִי), son of my sorrow (Gen 35:18), as she died giving birth. Jacob renamed him Benyamin (בִּנְיָמִין), son of the right hand – or good luck (Jewish Encyclopedia).  Just in the moment of his birth, Benjamin is both a blessing and a curse.

I find it interesting that Benjamin’s birth is part of Genesis 35.  In this one passage Jacob’s camp gives up their “strange gods” (35:2-4), Rebekah’s nurse Deborah dies (35:8), Jacob is given the name Yisrael (35:10), Ben-Oni is born (35:18), Ben-Oni is renamed Ben Yamin (35:18), Rachel dies (35:19), and Issac dies (35:29).

The next we hear of Benjamin is in Gen 42:4, when his other brothers are sent to Egypt to seek food to relieve the family from the famine.  He appears nowhere in the story between his birth and the next time he plays another role as a catalyst of events over which he has no control.

When, Benjamin, this beloved child is given his blessing by Jacob:

“Benjamin is a wolf that raveneth; in the morning he devoureth the prey, and at even he divideth the spoil.” (Gen 49:27)

Does this sound like the blessing you give a beloved child? The tribe of Benjamin was known as incredibly skilled warriors, and a bit ruthless.  But in the end, this last child of Yisrael, is the ancestral line that gives us our first King – Saul.  Another interpretation that makes a great deal of sense to me is that Benjamin’s blessing refers to the Temple where offerings were given the morning, and the edible portions divided among the priests and people in the evenings. (Jewish Encyclopedia)  I also think it is very possible that is refers to the fact that his birth (morning) caused the death of Rachel, but in the end (evening) his life brings great good by reuniting the family and his tribal lands are the ones set aside for the the Temple.

The blessing of Moses (Deut 33:12), brings a new sense of the blessing of Benjamin and what we can learn from it.

“Of Benjamin he said: The beloved of the LORD shall dwell in safety by Him; He covereth him all the day, and He dwelleth between his shoulders.”

This seems to clarify his first blessing for me.  Those wolf’s pack does not need to fear him.  He will feed not only himself, but also those in his protection.  Who would challenge a “ravenous wolf?”

I think the lesson I find in the Tribe of Benjamin for Kislev is reconciling how bad or tragic events can lead to unexpectedly beautiful or positive things.  It is the challenge to reconcile how any war can be just.  It is the challenge to transform the fear caused by nightmares into becoming better people in the waking world.  How do we accept that for the pack to be fed — something may have to die? Do we see the archer’s bow (קֶשֶׁת), the astrological sign for Kislev, as the ability to protect ourselves or wage war? Even if we see the Keshet (קֶשֶׁת) as the rainbow — how do we reconcile the destruction of the flood and survival of one small group with the death of millions?  How do we reconcile the death and destruction of Hanukkah with the celebration of our deliverance?

How do we do transform what could be the greatest curse into the greatest blessing?

This is the lesson I found.  What do you see?

Want more insights into Kislev?

• Kislev: Spiritual Alchemy
• Kislev: A Study in Opposites
• Hanukkah Seder

~ This is just an excerpt from the Wheel of the Year Guide for Rosh Chodesh Kislev.  Subscribe for free and receive the entire guide each month. ~

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Let’s think of things in this week’s Parshah that start with C. Cookie starts with C. But we need to think about Parshat Vayeira.

Circumcision starts with the letter C. Abraham circumsized himself at age 99. Ouch that must have really hurt!

City, that starts with the letter C. Abraham plead with G-d to spare the wicked city of Sodom. Two angels came to his nephew Lot’s house and an angry mob tried to hurt them. Lot protected the angels and the angels protected him.

Cave, that starts with the letter C. After fleeing the city, Lot and his two daughters took shelter in a cave. They thought they were the only people left in the world…so they slept with their father and got pregnant. Gross.

Conceive, that starts with the letter C. G-d remembered his promise to Sarah and she gives birth to her son Issac.

Crying, that starts with the letter C. Sarah banishes her slave who’s also the mother of Ishmael, Abraham’s other son. Ishmael is dying the in desert and cries. Sooo sad. And G-d saves his life.

Commandment, that starts with the letter C.  G-d commands Abraham to sacrifice Issac. But before he can do it, G-d stops him and replaces Isaac with a ram.

Just looking for the letter C in this week’s Torah portion helped me find many important lessons. You should look through the Torah and find your lesson! But be careful…it’ll make you hungry for more coookies!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7pAtUazC-Vo

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(This week’s Torah portion comes from our friend Reina Kutner at Young, Broke & Kosher. Interested in writing/taping a d’var? Email Michael@PunkTorah.org).

We have gotten through two portions of Torah, both of which are iconic. You had the creation of the world, where everything was GOOD or VERY GOOD. Then you have the story of Noah, where there was a great flood – a standard tale in most cultures.

But Lech Lecha, the Torah portion for this week, is probably the most important Torah portion thus far. It’s the one that fascinates me the most. For me, this story is beyond a portion of Torah; it’s actually a part of my very soul. And that’s not just because there’s a song by Debbie Freidman about it that still makes me cry.

Lech and Lecha actually translate to the same word: “Go.” It’s so important, the word “go” had to be said twice. When G-d wants something done, I guess emphasis is required.

Although there are many parts of the portion that we can talk about – whether it’s the ritual snipping all you lovely men get to have, the birth of Ishmael, or Abram looking at the stars and seeing how many descendents he will have. But the fact is that in order to get to all of this, G-d had to command Abram and Sarai (who are renamed later in the portion to Abraham and Sarah) to leave the land and people they had always known, including Abram’s father, to the land of Canaan.

And what do they get? Promises of blessings that they don’t really know will happen. There was no certainty, but they did it. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the first recorded leap of faith. Could you imagine if Abram and Sarai lived in this modern world and told these people about their plans? I figure it would go something like this:

What are you, nuts? Why would you travel to the land of Canaan? Do you know what goes on there? And in Egypt, the Pharaoh is going to marry your wife! You have no job, no nothing out there. And what about your nephew, Lot? What do you expect is
going to happen to him? On top of it, all you’re going for are some freakin’ blessings! And not only that, it’s from some mysterious god that we don’t know! He’s a stranger, how do you know if you can trust him/her/it? What kind of life are you heading to?

I have noticed, in the modern world, that people don’t respond well when people try to rock the boat in such a manner. It is deemed as foolish, irrational and unnecessary. But it is in our deepest nature to move on – to grow, to mature, to discover and to head out in the world, not knowing what life is going to throw at us.

Think about what this portion of the Torah taught us as Members of the Tribe: To not be afraid about the prospect of leaving things behind; to be fearless and to trust in ourselves and in G-d, for we will always find the right path. It has been essential to our survival, from escaping the Inquisition of Spain to the Pogroms of Russia, right down to heading into the Middle East after one of the world’s greatest tragedies and creating our own Promised Land. In many of these cases, there weren’t a lot of promises and no guarantees about what would happen to us. Sometimes some crazy things happened along the way. But it was worth it in the end.

Unlike the first two portions, this portion is the clue of what has allowed the Jewish people to survive – not a flood and an ark with animals, and not the story of how we came to be standing where we were; it was a matter of what we did with the time given to us. We became fearless and understood the need to GO, GO. It proved that sometimes to do something drastic was the best thing that you could have ever done for yourself.

As I have lived my life, venturing to new territories and places that I may not be as familiar with, I held Lech Lecha as my inspiration. It was my talisman, providing me comfort when I was heartbroken and strength when I was afraid. It’s perhaps because it is so integral to who we are as the Jewish people. It’s in our very DNA.

As you go forth and find your place in the world, I encourage you to find that Torah portion that speaks to you, that allows you to find the strength to do what you think you could have never done. Lech Lecha gave me courage and determination that I never thought I had to do what needed to be done. Sure, there were some wild bumps in the road, and I’m still ironing out some of them.

But the adventure of life is worth it.

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Yea! It’s time for Sukkot, or “The Feast Of Booths” or “Tabernacles”.

What the heck does that mean? It means “Go Camping!”

Seriously though, Sukkot is the holiday where we remember when we were traveling in the desert after fleeing Mitzrayim (Egypt), and we had to live in portable, fragile huts, or booths. In the time of the Temple it was one of the biggest pilgrimage holidays where Jews would come from all over to celebrate together as a people.

So why huts? What do they symbolize?

The sukkah, or booth, is a reminder of the booths that our ancestors lived in. We take this time to remember that we left Egypt with almost nothing and with nowhere to live, and we depended on G-d to provide and protect us.

They are also a symbol of the protective clouds, the Clouds of Glory, that hovered over our ancestors after we left Egypt and protected them through the wanderings. The Sages tell us about how the Clouds of Glory disappeared after the first Yom Kippur, and one of the things we celebrate is that the clouds returned on the 15th of Tishrei, symbolizing that G-d had truly forgiven us.

Observing Sukkot is usually done by building a sukkah following some specific Halachic rules, and spending the night and eating your meals there. Here is a fantastic link from a great resource for building a sukkah. While this is a great thing to do, and a really great experience for families, it may not be practical. So I would suggest some alternatives that, while maybe not Halachically “correct”, will allow you to explore and appreciate this wonderful Holy time:

• Take a walk outside with your family.
• Look at nature.
• Reflect on your connection to the Earth and to G-d.
• Go camping.
• Get out of the house and feel the reality of the world around you.

Sukkot is a time when we take a look at what usually makes us happy. We’ve just asked for and (presumably) been forgiven for our transgressions from the past year. Sukkot is one of the agricultural holidays; it takes place during the reaping time where the Israelites would fill their storehouses with their produce grown during the summer. So we sit, forgiven and happy that we have so much. But what is the real source of happiness? Our connection to the Infinite. On Sukkot we take the opportunity to celebrate what was only days before a somber event. We now move outside and leave behind those things that may make us happy on the materialistic level, and bask in the connection to the Essence that was formed over the High Holidays. Seeing how fragile the physical world is, spending time out of doors in nature, and appreciating the basis of our reality is a gift that we are given as Jews, and one that I invite you to partake in.

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Wq6_d6fhQU

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9m225MF1r8k

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THERE IS A GOD

DEAL WITH IT

While that movie never happened (because apparently Prince is insane), the story of Prince’s declaration of faith did make me think about how to talk about the Torah portion for Yom Kippur: the book of Jonah.

We all know that Jonah was the guy who got swallowed up by the whale, but there’s a little more to it than that.

The story starts with G-d telling Jonah that he has to go to the city of Nineveh because they are a sinful bunch and G-d is going to destroy their town. Jonah’s job is to let them all know about it.

Jonah’s not having any of that. So he runs off to the sea and that’s when the whole fish-swallowing-thing happens.

G-d spares Jonah who finally goes to Nineveh. He lets everyone know that some stuff is about to go down, and they all freak out and start repenting. G-d says, “OK, no worries, you’re spared.”

Jonah gets a little mad. G-d told him that he was going to get all Sodom and Gomorrah on everybody, but G-d didn’t. The conversation between Jonah and G-d goes something like this:

G-d: What’s up?

Jonah: Yeah. Noticed that Nineveh is still kinda OK. Looks like there hasn’t been any fire and brimstone stuff.

G-d: Nu?

Jonah: Don’t give me that Yiddish talk!  You lied to me.

G-d: And?

Jonah: And by the way, didn’t I say that you were a merciful G-d and would spare them and that there was no reason for me to leave town and go through all this mess?”

So Jonah sits under a tree and chills out. Then G-d sends a worm to destroy the tree. Jonah gets sad about this tree and G-d profoundly says…

G-d: Hey, this is just a tree and you’re crying like a little baby. But I just spared two hundred thousand people from dying and you act like it’s some kind of moral crime against YOU!

The end.

What does this have to do with Prince? Well…there is a G-d. Deal with it! Deal with the fact that sometimes, this G-d doesn’t make a lot of sense. Deal with the fact that sometimes in life, you’re gonna get swallowed up by the whale. That sometimes in life, you have to get off your couch and do something you’re not really that interested in doing. I’m not thrilled about going hungry for the entire day and hanging out in a synagogue…but you know what, if pleasing G-d is good enough for Prince, it’s good enough for me. Maybe then I’ll be able to be a Guitar Hero.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IiWYT8oSAiE

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A banished surrogate mother and child + child sacrifice + a great leader dying for no good reason = totally messed up.

But life is messed up. And G-d, in this week’s Torah portions, represents life. What’s the solution to a moral crisis when you live in an amoral (non-moral) universe?

GET MORAL!

G-d is limited. G-d cannot do the great work that we can of making the world a holy and moral place. That’s why we have mitzvot: this is our ability to “play G-d” and make the world what it should be…the world that G-d wants it to be, through our actions, thoughts and feelings.

Happy 5771!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e_XP2SGROcI

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qZeo0YRdpi0

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In keeping with the fact that it’s Labor Day Weekend and everyone is ditching shul to go to the beach, let’s keep this week’s d’var brief and to-the-point.

A double portion of Torah lovin’…

Nitzavim: do good stuff and G-d will reward you. Do bad stuff, and G-d will curse you. The end.

Vayelech: Moses is about to die. He gives the keys to the Jewish people to Joshua and they bro down in a tent with G-d who tells them that the Israelites are going to stray from the Torah.

This whole thing seems like a contradiction. G-d is the King of the Universe. You think he’d have the brains to not waste His time telling the Hebrews to worship Him in Parshat Nitzavim when he knows they’re just gonna go worship idols and eat ham sandwiches over in Parshat Vayelech.

But that’s the horrible thing about being a parent. You look into your newborn’s eyes and you feel this rapture that you’ve brought this life into the world. And you don’t think to yourself, “gee, one day you’re going to be stealing my car, get busted for smoking in the school bathroom and flunk out of college because you were more interested in X-Box than Chemistry 101.”
G-d, in this week’s double portion, is like any other parent, struggling to deal with the fact that His children will, in fact, give him the middle finger…and frankly, already have.

But G-d can’t help it. When G-d looks at Creation, it’s like we’re newborns in His hands. And he can’t help but say, “don’t worry I still love you kid, I’ll give you another chance. Just be good this time, OK?” And yeah, we’re pretty lucky like that.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFHsy5Q-rQM

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What Do Apples, Prayer and Fighting With Your Girlfriend Have In Common? (Ki Tavo)

I’m psyched about Rosh Hashanah. I’m supposed to say that for spiritual reasons. But really, I like apples and honey.

This week’s Torah portion is about fruit. The first fruit, in fact. We’re supposed to give that up as a sacrifice to G-d. And, surprise, G-d will bless us. Kinda anti-climactic, but not every part of the Torah makes for good TV.

We’re always giving sacrifices to G-d. Animals, plants…heck, one time there was child sacrifice (luckily that worked out OK). It made sense back then to sacrifice animals and plants because we lived in a farm-based economy. Our whole lives were what we had to eat (and for most Jews, it still is!)

I don’t own a farm. I’m not sure I know what “threshing” means and half the Shabbat prohibitions don’t apply to me because I’m not into skinning animals and preparing hide. But I still have to give sacrifices.

The solution: prayer. Our economy now is Time and People Centered. Time, because time is money. And people centered, because our talent, our energy, our ideas, our creativity are the fuel for the economy…not vineyards and pastures. Prayer is a sacrifice because it takes away our time and it also takes away our ability to think about ourselves and all the things that we want at that moment. We’re giving it up for the Lord. And what are the “first fruits” of prayer? Well you guessed it: the Shacharit service! The morning prayer is the first fruit of the day; the first chance that we get to think about ourselves. Instead, we get to think about G-d.

Speaking of this morning, my girlfriend woke me up at 6AM after I had only slept for a few hours last night. She bought some clothes for me at Target and wanted to see how they fit…but I was tired and grumpy and told her to leave me alone. But finally I relented and tried the clothes on. I could have been a total jerk, but the first fruit of the day was having a happy spouse, and even though at the time I was mad and wanted to go back to sleep, I’m glad I tried the clothes on because my girlfriend has more control over my life than anyone else does (sorry HaShem, but you know it’s true) so I’m glad I could give her the first fruit of my day…because she blesses me all the time! And I got a new pair of pants.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmT9L8vgd0o

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How do we make these commandments work in daily life? Two ways: taking the past and make yourself an extension of it. Saying to yourself, “this is the way it was back then, and so this is how we do it now”. This is Orthodoxy. The other way is to make your values the same as the Hebrews, making the Hebrews feminist, vegan-anarchists or whatever you may be.

Here’s the problem: we live in a different world than the Hebrews. Our values, and their values are completely different. And it’s important to recognize and celebrate those differences. Sometimes they were right, and sometimes our modern values are superior to theirs.

Bottom line: be yourself. And by the way, if you read this week’s Torah portion literally, don’t take any “beautiful captives”. They call that “abduction” and “human trafficking” now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehDHZtdHfnM

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“Justice, justice, you shall seek.” Parshat Shoftim is the Torah portion where we get to feel like Tikkun Olam-aholics and Social Justice Champions. The environmental crowd uses Shoftim to make the case for Al Gore’s livelihood and the LGBT crowd will surely use Shoftim to talk about the overturning of Prop 8, while the other side of the aisle will be screaming Fair Tax and War on Islamo-fascism at the top of their lungs. But let’s talk about something more interesting than politics.

Why is justice repeated twice in “justice, justice, you shall seek”? Isn’t it good enough to say, “seek justice” without the clever poetics?

The Jewish tradition is big on numbers and the number two has its own significance. Two, the Kabbalists believe, is the number for fellowship…and that seems to make sense. There are two parts to the Torah, oral and written, that are in fellowship with each other. One Torah isn’t “more right” than the other. They compliment each other. “Two people shall become one flesh”…how that’s fellowship. How about the two angels in Sodom and Gamorrah? Or the fact that we light two candles on Shabbat and that when a man studies in yeshiva, he studies with a partner?

This week’s Torah portion talks justice, but justice can’t be administered by one person. From the beginning, we learn what justice should be in fellowship. No one person, no matter how smart they are or just they are has all the right answers. Great things come from partnership.

Short and sweet, that’s the lesson of the week. Go with G-d and bring a friend!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wut_uOgdoDk

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Deuteronomy 11:26-16:17

Monotheism in a nutshell, all laid out. Make the change you want to see!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wHDsuVuSJhA

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I watched Christopher Hitchens the other day on YouTube. The “Arch Bishop of Anti-Theism” remarked that the Jewish G-d was a genocidal megalomaniac and bemoaned how anyone could worship such a terrible deity.

Ironically, Christopher Hitchens is Jewish. But that’s a whole other story.

If you read Parshat Ekev, you’re left wondering if he’s right. The Hebrews are about to enter the promised land, and Moses is telling them to do some pretty cruel things to the Canaanites on G-d’s behalf. “You shall not spare them…no man will be able to stand up before you until you have destroyed them…their gods you will burn with fire…you shall drive out those nations from before you” (Deuteronomy 7:16-22).

So I guess you’re right, Hitch. G-d, it seems, doesn’t have a lot of loving-kindness for the Canaanites.

If you have the chance, watch a documentary called The Bible’s Buried Secrets and you’ll learn something interesting about the ancient Israelites: they weren’t exactly the mighty warriors that the Bible talks about. In fact, they were shepherds, outcasts, nomads, serfs…people on the fringes of society.

I know a little bit about people on society’s fringe. I’ve spent a good bit of my life there, as a nerd, a weirdo, a freak, a rocker, an artist. I think my teen years were the culmination of all of these identities.

Anyway, these are the people today who sit on the outside of society. Something we all have in common: we like stories that give us strength. We generally feel powerless, whether it’s powerless over some popular kid at school, a loudmouth boss at work that won’t leave you alone, whatever. So we come up with elaborate stories that give us a sense of belonging, a sense of unity with people in our struggle, and ultimately, stories where we win in the end. Pop culture is filled with these stories: Revenge of the Nerds, Napoleon Dynamite, American Splendor, Ghost World, SLC Punk…these are our “Parshat Ekevs” (or would that be Ekevot?)

Imagine what it must have been like to be a beaten up surf in the Bronze Age, a social pariah of your time, totally worthless to any community you tried to belong to, and then have someone tell you that you are chosen specially by the one true G-d who believes in you and that you are actually the descendent of mighty warriors. Sounds pretty rad to me.

So yes, Hitch, this G-d seems like a tyrant. But when life won’t stop beating you up, it’s nice to know that you have some muscle on your side and that you belong to something bigger than yourself.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uaqD7IYQVoM

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Religion, for many Jews, is a meritocracy. Where you went to college/yeshiva, what branch of Judaism ordained you, what rabbis you studied under, what level of kashrut, negiah, shabbat you keep. This is a litmus test for how-Jewishly-you-can-be-trusted. The more hardcore you are, the better, even if people think that your understanding of Judaism is bogus. At least you have the spiritual resume to back it up.

But really, is this where holiness comes from? Does a person who goes to a black hat yeshiva really cleave to G-d and the Torah more than someone who went to a community college?

Moses seems to think that our destiny is not in the shul or the centers of learning. In fact, it seems like we’re going to seek G-d from the outside.

Just read…

“And the Lord will scatter you among the peoples, and you will remain few in number among the nations to where the Lord will lead you.  And there you will worship gods, man’s handiwork, wood and stone, which neither see, hear, eat, nor smell. And from there you will seek the Lord your God, and you will find Him, if you seek Him with all your heart and with all your soul.” (Deut. 4:27-31)

This doesn’t seem like a really good ad for Jewish higher learning or Israel immersion. In fact, it seems like us Diaspora people have been part of the plan all along.

I’m really turned on by the phrase, “And from there you will seek the Lord your God, and you will find Him, if you seek Him.” It doesn’t say, “from the Chabad house, you will find G-d” or “in the corporate offices of the Jewish Federations you will find G-d” or “in the house of some learned scholar of the Torah, you will find G-d.” No! It says that from a place of idol worship, of disconnection from the greater Jewish community, from a place of sin…that is where we will find G-d.

Suddenly, the Diaspora looks a little nicer.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rTTbs9_a25E

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Right here! At 9:15 PM Central. Participate in the “build-a-lamentation” where we will work together to create a work to be featured on PunkTorah.org!

Tonight starts the fast of Tisha B’Av, the ninth of Av.

What does that mean? There are some things we are told not to do:
Prohibitions:

1.     No eating or drinking

2.     No washing or bathing

3.     No application of creams or oils

4.     No wearing of leather shoes

5.     No marital relations

6.     No Torah study

Why Tisha B’Av?
The Talmud tells us that there are five things that happened to the Jews on Tisha B’Av:
1. The twelve spies sent by Moses to observe the land of Canaan returned from their mission. Only two of the spies, Joshua and Caleb, brought a positive report, while the others spoke disparagingly about the land. The majority report caused the Children of Israel to cry, panic and despair of ever entering the “Promised Land”. For this, they were punished by G-d that their generation would not enter the land. Because of the Israelites’ lack of faith, G-d decreed that for all generations this date would become one of crying and misfortune for their descendants, the Jewish people. (See Numbers Ch. 13–14)

2. The First Temple built by King Solomon and the Kingdom of Judah was destroyed by the Babylonians led by Nebuchadnezzar in 586 BCE and the Judeans were sent into the Babylonian exile.

3. The Second Temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE, scattering the people of Judea and commencing the Jewish exile from the Holy Land. According to the Talmud in tractate Ta’anit, the destruction of the Second Temple began on the Ninth of Av and the Temple continued to burn throughout the Tenth of Av.

4. The Romans crushed Bar Kokhba’s revolt and destroyed the city of Betar, killing over 100,000 Jews, in 132 CE.

5. Following the Roman siege of Jerusalem, Roman commander Turnus Rufus plowed the site of the Temple and the surrounding area, in 133 CE.

What can we learn from this now? How can we bring this into our lives today?
Well, we see that as a people we have a responsibility to mourn our collective losses. National tragedies tie a people together, just as national celebrations can. So mourning together as a people is an important part of being a Jew. Not only this, but we are told that Moshiach will be born on Tisha B’Av. The pain and mourning are akin to birth pangs.
If we look more closely at the first occurrence, the spies who were scared, the Israelites cried for no reason. G-d told them they would invade and be victorious, but they despaired of even trying. Because of this, because they cried empty tears, G-d told them that this day would be forever a day of mourning. It’s basically a parent saying, “Why are you crying over nothing! You’ve wasted all this time and energy crying over nothing, now you’ll really have something to cry about.”
The real sin of the Israelites is that they didn’t believe in themselves. They saw the inhabitants of Canaan and were scared, even after G-d told them not to worry. They didn’t have faith that they could do what G-d said they could. So this year let’s mourn for what we could have done, and resolve to do what we can. Recognize that Judaism doesn’t shy away from pain, it is a reality of life that needs to be acknowledged, but we have to allow our pain to give birth to a better world.

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SpxUt1J2SNY

It’s hard enough imagining a time without the internet, let alone books. But that’s what it’s like to be an ancient Hebrew. Moses keeps repeating these same stories about the People over and over again, not because he’s lecturing or thinks that the Hebrews are too stupid to remember, but because there isn’t exactly a library of Jewish history sitting around the traveling camp.

It’s like in the book Fahrenheit 451 where an underground society of people called “book-keepers” each memorize a book in order to preserve knowledge. In the same way, Moses is turning each of his people into a living book…a living Torah, in fact. Instead of writing all the laws and stories on parchment, he demands that each person become a Torah in themselves, and collectively, the People of the Book.

One thing that particularly struck me about the portion this week was Moses recalling the time he appointed judges and magistrates to help him “mete out justice” and teach “the word of G_d”. Moses is basically saying:
“Hey, remember that time I tried to do everything myself and I couldn’t? Yeah, well you can’t either. Ask for help from each other and together anything can be accomplished.”
If even Moses himself, the pinnacle prophet of Judaism needed to get help from those around him, how much more do we? This is one of the key teachings that he leaves with the Israelites as they head into the Promised Land: you will need help, and you have to look to each other for it. No one, not even the prophet of G_d Almighty can do it alone.

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Sometimes reading the Torah is like reading a book written by a blood thirsty thirteen year old with attention deficit disorder. This week’s portion jumps, not so elegantly, from women taking vows, to killing the Midianites and stealing their stuff, then all of a sudden we’re diving up a bunch of land. The end, next chapter please.

And you wonder why more people don’t take the Torah seriously? It’s like cut-and-paste poetry. Once the story gets really good, G-d interrupts everything with a census or some obscure set of rules that makes no sense. Or it starts off really boring, and you give up half way, only to find out the really good stuff is toward the end.

The Torah doesn’t have a good beginning, middle and end. And it’s really not meant to, either. I think there’s three basic reasons for that.

First, the Torah is a reflection of life. And life doesn’t have a real beginning, middle and end. Sure, individual lives start and finish, but the legacy of humanity lasts forever (or at least until SkyNet and the Terminators finish us off). At any rate, Torah reflects life, and life is filled with low points, high points, boring, pointless interruptions, scandals, intrigue, and everything else…and sometimes the order of those things doesn’t make any sense.

Second, the Torah is a reflection of Creation. There’s a midrash that says that G-d looked into the Torah before creating the world. I like that. The Torah is flawed at times, and frankly, so is the world. Now, I’m not calling HaShem a crummy writer or a bad creator, but the world isn’t perfect, and if you read the Torah enough, you’ll find out that the Torah isn’t perfect all the time either.

Finally, the Torah is the reflection of the human soul…sometimes for better, and sometimes for worse. This week, we’re dealing with the souls of women and warriors, liars and hinderers, revenge-seekers and oppressors. Next week, the soul may change, and go in a new direction. But the Torah does us a huge favor and lets us see all sides of the soul. Hopefully, the soul doesn’t end either.

So what’s the bottom line? Don’t let the strange ups-and-downs of the Torah, the weird jumping back and forth from women-and-their-dads-to-blood-and-guts keep you from learning. Life, Creation, and the human spirit has its ups-and-downs, and its weird moments, too.

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This week’s Torah portion is about accepting change. And I’m not talking about loose change.

A guy named Zelophehad dies…and unlucky for him, Zelophehad had no sons, no one to pass his inheritance to. But he did have daughters. And these daughters were angry that their father’s lot would not be given to them. So they protest to Moses and Moses talks to G-d. The result: G-d agrees that sexism is unfair, and the law of inheritance is passed so that women would be included.

Another change happens: Moses knows that his time is running out on this Earth. The Hebrews are about to enter the Promised Land and Moses does not get to go with them. So G-d tells Moses that Joshua will be the new leader. Moses is commanded to lay his hands upon Joshua in front of the Hebrews showing his status as the future Jewish Commander In Chief.

Change is tough: it forces people to confront their boundaries and limits. It’s easier to keep life as static and simple as possible, so you’ll never experience growing paints. But change is a part of life. Get over it. Move on.

So Moses hands the keys to the kingdom over to Joshua. Here’s this guy, hand picked by G-d out of all of the Israelites, to be the new leader. Even with how Moses must have felt about turning things over to “the new guy”, there had to be some sense of trust there. I mean, G-d chose Joshua!

G-d told Moses who would be the next leader. I know that if I were retiring from a company that I started if G-d told me who would be my successor I would trust His judgment. So in this there is some comfort to Moses, that the guy taking his place was at least good enough to be selected by the Divine. And that is important.

G-d knew Joshua wasn’t Moses, and he never would be. G-d knew the time for Moses was over, it was time for a fresh perspective, some new leadership. Was Joshua going to screw up? Of course! Obviously even Moses messed up. But that’s okay.

What that says to me is that Hashem knows that things change (He made them that way!) so sometimes new leadership is necessary. And even Moses had to learn that, to trust in the way that things were going and that G-d wouldn’t let things get out of hand.

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In this week’s Torah portion, a sorcerer named Balaam is sent by Balak to curse the Israelites. But G-d appears to him and turns his heart saying, “you shall not curse them but bless them” (Numbers 22:12). After protesting to Balak’s people that he can’t do it, Balaam reluctantly agrees to carry out his mission.

But something crazy happens. Balaam is riding a donkey toward the settlement where the Hebrews are, when his donkey sees an angel of the Lord, blocking him from going toward the camp. Balaam doesn’t see it: only the donkey sees it. So Balaam tries, unsuccessfully, to go in different directions toward the camp, hitting the poor donkey over and over again. Finally, G-d gives the donkey the power to speak! The conversation went a little like this:

Donkey: Hey Balaam, why you keep hitting me? What did I ever do to you?

Balaam: Donkey, you’re embarrassing me! If you were a person, I’d freakin’ cut you!

Donkey: Why you playin’ like that? You’ve been riding me this whole time and I haven’t given you trouble at all.

And then, the angel appeared to Balaam and called him out on his awful mistreatment of the donkey:

Angel: Yo, Balaam. Why are you beating down your donkey? Obviously I’m in the way and the donkey can’t go anywhere you want it to!

So Balaam has something of a roadside conversion and the angel lets him know that, instead of curses, Balaam will open his mouth and bless the Hebrews.

Balaam goes back to Balak and lets him know this weird news. And Balak basically says, “heck with this. Let’s go to the Hebrew settlement and try this cursing thing out either way.” Long story short, it didn’t work. Apparently when G-d does something, it happens.

I’d like to ask an honest question: what’s in your way? What is keeping you from getting something done? For Balaam, it was an angel, standing in his way. What is it for you?

And an even bigger question is, “is what you are wanting to do, really that important, anyway?”

Balaam was trying to curse the Hebrews, so G-d steps in his way. And there are angels on Earth who get in our way all the time: the father who locks up his drug addict kid who he won’t shoot up, the nurse who gives out condoms to prostitutes so they won’t get AIDS.

So what’s in your way? Maybe it’s not as self destructive and the examples I gave earlier, but maybe it will take you down a path that you really don’t want. I used to think that every time my old band couldn’t get a show or every time I got fired from a job, that it was just another thing getting in my way. And to be honest, if I had a sword, I’d prolly cut some people up, too.

But then an angel stepped into my life and made me realize, “OK Patrick, maybe you need to evaluate whether this is a good use of your time.” And sure enough, those things weren’t. And now, things are going great. I have a new band, and it doesn’t stress me out at all! And my job…well…PunkTorah is my job!

There’s always an obstacle to every goal. Maybe that obstacle is an angel of the Lord saying, “don’t pass Go, don’t collect $200. You’re going to do G-d’s work instead.”

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Numbers 19:1-22:1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_xY6y27lHY8

Why do the same things keep happening to us over and over again? Why do we fall into the same relationships, same types of jobs, etc. etc. Sometimes life feels like a gigantic rerun that you can’t escape: a constant Bill Murray-style Groundhog Day.

Just like all the other Torah portions in Bamidbar, the same predictable plot happens:

1) The Hebrews wander the desert

2) The Hebrews get angry that they are wandering in the desert

3) G-d gets pissed off and performs a miracle

This time, we have snakes on fire, which to me sounds like a stoner metal band. At any rate, these venomous snakes bite the ankles of the Hebrews, and naturally they freak out.

So G-d says, “build a bronze altar with a snake on a pole. Stare at it, and you’ll be healed.”

Yay. Miracle. But pretty anti-climactic.

I guess you could say, “well, it all worked out for the Hebrews. They built a shrine to the snake and G-d healed them. Some lesson, huh?” But you have to remember that idolatry is a sin. G-d’s not letting them off the hook, G-d’s forcing them to do something that’s completely against their culture. It’s like a dog that pees on the carpet, and you turn around and rub their nose in it.

There’s a reason why life for the Hebrews stays the same: they keep doing the same things! It seems like a no-brainer, but perhaps if they adjusted their attitude a little bit, they wouldn’t be wandering around in the desert!

This is the way life works: you’re fat because you keep eating, you’re single because you keep going out with losers, and you’re an alcoholic because you keep drinking. It’s like my dad says, “if you keep doing what you’ve always done, you’ll get what you’ve always gotten.”

Maybe it’s all the motivational posters at my gym, but I see this week’s Torah portion as an inspiration to quit whining and do something! Maybe then the snakes that are biting your ankles (bill collectors, a crappy boss, whatever) will leave you alone.

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Parshah Korach

If you like stories about political rebellion and massive death, then Parshah Korach is right up your alley.

In this week’s parshah, Korach decides that Moses needs to be overthrown. In his mind, Moses has too much authority and sits on his high horse, talking to G-d, and looking down on everyone else.

So he challenges Moses’ authority. He gathers a bunch of guys, and they confront Moses. So Moses calls him out on it! Moses and Korach go to the Tent of Meeting with fire pans of incense and sure enough, G-d sides with Moses. Korach and his dudes get swallowed up by the earth and the rest die in a massive plague.

Basically, you don’t mess with G-d.

A lot of people read this Torah portion as a way of promoting fundamentalism. “See, if you rebel against G-d, you’ll be punished! So burn your Urban Outfitters shirts and step away from the indie rock, because you need to sit all day reading Gemara or G-d will punish you all the days of your life.”

That’s a lie. And they know it.

This story is actually about DISTRUSTING authority.

In the first part of the story, we learn that Korach comes from a powerful family. The Midrash (Jewish legends) about Korach teaches that he was wealthy, too. And if you look at the people he recruited to overthrow Moses, they weren’t anti-establishment. They were princes, men from the assembly, nobility. They were yuppie power brokers!

Korach used these two hundred and fifty men to challenge Moses, not because they wanted equality, but they wanted power for themselves. Worse than that, they managed to trick people into following them under the lie that “everyone in the congregation is holy” (Numbers 16:3).

There are people in this world: politicians, celebrities, people in power, who claim that they are looking out for the common man. But sometimes, these people aren’t really looking out for you. They are just using you.

Why did G-d side with Moses and Aaron and not Korach? Because Moses and Aaron were the real deal. Yes, they were the guys in charge. But their hearts were in the right place. They weren’t out for “number one” like Korach.

So if you’re going to challenge the system, go for it! G-d likes rebellious people. Just make sure that you aren’t being tricked by some yuppie jerk who talks a good game.

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In this weeks portion, three things happen…

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Parshat Naso really, really bothers me.

First, we have this issue of a wife cheating on her husband. It’s pretty ugly. He gets to take her to the center of the town where she drinks a bitter water that will probably kill her. If she lives, she didn’t sin. If she dies…well…you know. It’s very Salem Witch Trials, and sounds a lot nicer when you hear the Girls In Trouble song about it called, “Secrets/You’re Always Watching”.

Then there’s hippies. No. Really. Hippies.

The Torah talks about something called the Nazarite vow. It’s a vow taken by a person who wants to be “holy”. And they have some pretty interesting rules they have to live by: they have to grow their hair long, they can’t drink wine, they can’t be near a dead body, and they have to offer sacrifices along with going to the mikvah (ritual bath).

Let’s think…wanna-be holy people with long hair who need to take a bath. Hippies!

But here’s the cool thing. Adultery in the Bible is a two-way street. Men can’t cheat and neither can women. And there’s examples of strong female characters like Tamar and Esther who challenge the idea that women were baby-machines-who-better-keep-their-mouths-shut. Though it doesn’t seem like it at times, the Bible is actually pretty egalitarian.

And as for those hippie Nazarite people. Well, they can be men or women! Anyone can take the vow to be a holy person. That says a lot, given the number of religions that teach the superiority of men in the holiness department.

This year it’s especially fitting that Parshat Naso be read during the time of Shavuot, where we see a strong woman against a patriarchal society. The great thing about the Torah is that, just when you think it’s sexist, it turns around and gives you a swift kick in the right direction.

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Being a kid was a lot like being a slave. I had to go to school. I had to be home at a certain time. I had to eat the food my parents bought. I was on their schedule: I didn’t have a car, a place of my own, anything!

When I started college, I finally felt free. I was my own man, freed from the slavery of childhood. But there was a problem: I really had no sense of who I was. I was always changing my clothing style, my taste in music, the food I ate, the stuff I liked to do for fun. My identity was really fluid then, not because I was so open minded, but because I was in a crisis: true adulthood was creeping up on me, and I needed to figure out who I was and what I was going to do with my life.

In a way, I was wandering through my own desert, just like the Hebrews.

In this week’s Torah portion, G-d tells the freed Hebrew slaves to count themselves, and instructs them to take on certain roles. The Gershonites were in charge of the tent and the covering of the Tabernacle. The Kohathites delt with the ark, table, lampstand and some other things inside it, etc. etc. etc. In this way, G-d is telling them who they are, and what their life is about.

If you’re having trouble figuring out who you are, and what your life is about, then try the Bamidbar Technique For Solving An Identity Crisis:

• Count your people. See who it is that you want to be around, day and night, 24/7. Literally count the number of people. Is your “tribe” small or large? Are you OK with that?
• See how these people live. Maybe it’s the free spiritedness of the Crunchies or the booze-and-shmooze life of the Young Executives that turns you on. Either way, you are going to be in this group and you better see if it’s something you want.
• Camp with your people. Get involved with the people that you want  to be around. Whether it’s interning at a company that you think you like, or visiting a college that sounds cool, or volunteering for a non-profit that attracts the people you like, getting involved will surround you with the kinds of people you want to emulate.
• Take on the role. Once you know what you like, and who you want to be, then do it! There’s nothing stopping you.
• Remember that you are what you are. A lot of people want to be everything. You can’t be. It’s impossible. You might have to sacrifice certain things, like a type of job, a certain place you want to live, certain educational opportunities, etc. But if you love what you are doing, and who you are with, you are willing to give up anything.

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Parshat Behar-Bechukotai

In the beginning of this week’s Torah portion, G-d tells Moses that every seventh year, the Hebrews should let their land “rest”. No planting, harvesting, etc. Just leave it alone. And if the land has any produce, make sure to leave some your animals, slaves, hired workers and people who live with you. G-d wants the land to rest, because then it will “become fertile”. There is a sense, here, that human beings spoil the land through their work, and that nature needs to repair itself so that it can continue to grow.

Farmers cultivate the land with tools, and the result is the harvest. Similarly, prayers are used as tools to cultivate divinity, the result being a connection to something transcendent.

Maybe it makes sense, then, that there be a “Sabbatical time” from prayer. It’s great to say brachot, daven, meditate, etc. But maybe we need to just chill out and enjoy life, so that our spiritual “land” can replenish itself. Instead of worrying about all the brachot, the correct prayers for each moment of life, keeping tabs of the weekly Torah portion, etc., we sometimes need to just step back, go on autopilot, and take a break from “being, thinking and acting Jewish” to just “being” ourselves.

Even though we aren’t “cultivating” the spiritual land, we will still have plenty of spiritual “produce”. And we are commanded to share this with everyone! And what happens after the Sabbatical? Our spiritual land is fertile again, and we can get back to business as usual, refreshed and more bountiful than before.

Bottom line: even rabbis take a day off (and from what I understand, it’s usually Monday).

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Moses is considered the greatest prophet of the Jewish people. That’s strange, because according to Moses himself, he is “slow of speech and of a slow tongue” (Exodus 4:10). You would think that the greatest prophet of all time would at least be able to carry a sentence.

But Emor shows why Moses was so great: he gave the Hebrews their culture! This Torah portion has Moses teaching the Hebrews about Sukkot and Passover and Shabbat. Moses goes in depth about the Kohenim, the priestly class. Moses even goes into detail about the Jewish sense of justice.

It’s like a father giving his child a last name or a grandparent teaching a family recipe. It’s the reason why adopted kids learn about their biological parents, even though they already have parents that love them. Moses is the great prophet because he gave the Hebrews an identity.

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